My Quidditch League Entries - Season 5
by Lilly Caia
Summary: This is where I will post any of my one-shots for the Quidditch League season 5! Have fun checking them out :)
1. Best Friends Forever

_Practice Round: Throwback 80s - Prompt: Cabbage Patch Kids_

 **Best Friends Forever**

Today is _it_ again. May 2nd, four years after the end of the Second Wizarding War. This day is a very special day to all children at the _Roberts_ orphanage. Today the heroes Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley will come to spend a day of fun and gift-giving with the orphans.

 _Roberts_ orphanage is an institution that was founded specifically for all the new orphans left behind in the wake of the War. Safe to say, there were sadly lots of them. Too many to put them all in the orphanages that had already existed. So in a joint effort by the Ministry and the people, a beautiful new building was built in Dulwich Village – a small suburb of London.

It had taken just about three months to finish everything off: furniture was added to all rooms, the garden was worked on until there were trees and bushes, small plants and flowers, lots of grassy space to run around on and a small playground with swings and a slide. Summarizing, it was as perfect as an orphanage property could be.

Sadly, Nina, a small girl, six years of age, can neither appreciate the beauty of her surroundings nor the fact that her hero Hermione Granger is coming to visit today. One might think it to be for the fact that she, too, is one of the many orphans at _Roberts_ orphanage, but to Nina it is her every-day life. She was put here when she had still been very small and can't really remember her parents. No, Nina is not sad because of that. Nina is sad because her best friend of all times Caleb will be adopted in a few days and when that happens, she will be left behind, on her own once again.

So when her usually favourite day of the year arrives, she does not run out to greet the three war heroes together with all the other children. Instead she walks after them very slowly, simply watching everything. Never in her whole life has she felt this detached from her surroundings.

Just this morning, Caleb had told her excitedly about the couple that will be adopting him. They're great, she bitterly had to conclude. The man, Michael, is everything one can wish for in a Dad. He's nice, obviously caring, fun to be around. Caleb was very excited to tell her that he plays Quidditch which Caleb loves and that he will teach him how to fly. The woman, Sarah, on her part, is everything one could wish for in a mother. She gives amazing hugs, can bake yummy treats and has the most beautiful smile Caleb has ever seen. She even brought him cookies that he immediately shared with Nina and she hated to admit it but they really were very good. Concluding her thoughts, they are the perfect parents to Caleb's shy but easily excited character and he'll be super happy with them and will soon forget all about her.

Moping, Nina finally arrives at the end of the small mass of children surrounding Harry, Hermione and Ron who are standing there, laughing in the shining sun, in their courtyard. For an outsider it must seem strange the way the three simply await the kids with open arms, giving hugs to anyone who wants one – which means basically everyone. The greeting alone takes ten minutes until finally everyone is satisfied. All but one: Nina is still standing at the back, not feeling like being pushed around today. Usually she's the one doing all the pushing to be one of the first to reach the three friends.

Knowing what will come next, she already moves to the shades of a big tree on the right hand side of the building. Every year they first sit down there and talk about what is planned for the day. But even though she is the first there and has all the choice in seating, Nina simply walks to the far left and sits down on one of the small cushions littering the floor. Lost in her thoughts, she waits for everyone else to arrive.

The other kids are noisy, chattering about everything and anything, telling their favourite hero this and that story about school or the orphanage, asking questions in return about their life. Each of the three is surrounded by at least five kids, all wanting to hold a hand or onto some clothing. Every kid at the _Roberts_ orphanage craves attention and as much as the supervisers try, they simply can't give every kid as much attention as they'd like to get. So whenever guests come of course all the kids try to compensate.

Finally everyone is seated, Caleb has come to sit next to his best friend after greeting his hero Harry. „Hey, how come you weren't there?", he whispers to Nina as they quieten down to listen to Hermione explain this year's plan.

„Didn't feel like it.", Nina simply answers, stubbornness in her voice. Caleb frowns.

„But you love May 2nd. It's your favourite day of the year. How can you not 'feel like it'?" The small boy doesn't understand his friend.

„Just like that. Now leave me alone. That's what you'll do anyway.", Nina hisses defensively. A hurt look flashes across Caleb's face as he turns away to look at the front.

In silence they listen. Hermione is just telling them about some sort of dolls. Cabbage Patch Kids she calls them. Apparently these 'Little People' – just like them she says laughingly – are looking for a home and today each of them will get the chance to 'adopt' one, complete with its own birth certificate. They look funny to Nina. They're not at all like her other dolls. These have very big heads with smallish beady eyes, unproportionate limbs attached to a big body. They aren't ugly per se but not pretty either.

Hermione said they are special but Nina's mind stopped processing her words after she mentioned adoption. Once again all the hurt at her best friend's betrayal enters her mind and body, tears slowly filling her eyes as desperation makes itself at home. Not able to hold it back anymore, she gets up and starts running back towards the building. Up and up she runs to her room, where she hides in her bed underneath her covers. It's too hot outside to lie beneath a blanket but she doesn't care. She doesn't want anyone to see her, she doesn't want to see anyone either.

At least that's what she thought until a gentle hand clamps down on her shoulder while another starts to rub small soothing circles on her back. Slowing a little on her sobs and sniffles, Nina curiously pushes the cover back from her head. Sitting beside her on her bed is Hermione Granger, looking at her with a sympathetic look. Mortified, Nina quickly dugs back beneath her blanket. She doesn't want her hero to see her like this, at a weak point. She wants Hermione to remember a happy girl, not this little cry-baby. After all, Nina is already six years old. Much too old to be a cry-baby.

„Go away, please.", she tells Hermione, her voice breaking on the last word.

„I could do that.", Hermione replies, leaving Nina oddly disappointed. „But I'd much rather stay and have you tell me what's wrong. Don't you like the dolls?", she asks Nina in a soft voice. It is such a caring voice, full of emotion. It is almost as if her hero really cares about her. This is simply too much for the young girl feeling utterly alone. Breaking down into heart-breaking sobs, she throws herself in Hermione's arms and bawls her eyes out.

Hermione, after overcoming her first surprise, gently holds her, still drawing circles on her bag while saying sweet nothings. After a few minutes, she finally pushes Nina a little away from her.

„You don't have to tell me, but I've been told by very wise people that sometimes talking about something helps you. It worked for me.", she added smiling at Nina's look of doubt. Biting her lip, Nina looks away, leaving Hermione thinking she won't tell her, but then she starts talking, her voice barely loud enough to be heard.

„My best friend Caleb he...he's being adopted." Understanding dawns on Hermione.

„Don't you like the people adopting him?", she asks Nina quietly. Nina cautiously shakes her head.

„No, they're really nice. He'll be happy but..." She breaks off and shrugs, sadness etched into her face. Hermione sighs.

„But you're scared he'll forget you. Replace you with some kid with parents.", Hermione concludes. Tears once again pour into Nina's eyes as she nods, burrying her face in Hermione's chest. „Oh sweetie. He's your best friend, he won't forget you." As that doesn't seem to change anything in Nina's demeanour – not that Hermione had expected it to – she continues. „Do you want to know why I chose the dolls for this year's 2nd May?", she goes for a different tactic. It seems to work better as Nina looks up from Hermione's chest and nods shyly, making her smile, „I'm a muggle-born and those dolls were really popular when I was a little kid. One day, when I was about your age, I fell really sick and had to go to hospital for treatment.", Hermione quietly tells her. Nina follows her every word with rapt attention. Her hero is telling her something, something the other kids won't know. She feels very special.

„While I was there, I hated it. Everything was white, I didn't like the people working there, they were very mean. I couldn't even play with the other kids. Safe to say, I was miserable there. I hated that someone other than my parents were taking care of me. One day, a man named Xavier Roberts came to the hospital. He brought these dolls that he called 'The Little People'. Every child got one and was given a birth certificate with the name they had chosen for their doll on it. He told us these dolls needed our caring, just the way we needed the people at the hospital to care for us. Xavier said each doll was very special and when we give them names they become special to us. They become part of our family.

Even back then I always wanted to be best at everything, so I took very good care of my doll Ariana. I braided her hair, washed her, fed her – not necessarily in that order.", Hermione laughs a little. „And while taking care of her, the time at the hospital sped by. Soon I was released to go home. By then I loved my Ariana and because I took so good care of her, I knew she loved me, too." Hermione is happy to notice Nina smiling at her story.

„What happened then?", she asks eagerly. Laughing a little Hermione continues.

„Well, I took her home with me and continued to take care of her. But at home I had other dolls, too, and one day I forgot to feed her. As soon as I realized that, I was in tears, believing my Ariana would surely hate me. But the next day my parents assured me that because Ariana had grown with me, because she was family, she wasn't mad I forgot her. The next time I cautiously checked on her, my Ariana still smiled at me and all was well." With this Hermione comes to an end. Nina seems to be deep in thought.

„Do you still have her?", she asks Hermione wonderously. Hermione nods her head.

„I do. I even have her with me today. Here.", she grabs into her bag that is hanging around her shoulders, taking out a worn-out looking red-haired doll in a blue dress. Nina eyes her in amazement. Slowly she reaches out to touch her before stopping and looking questioningly at Hermione as though in permission. Hermione nods and Nina takes her doll in her small hands, smoothing over her hair.

„She's really pretty.", Nina breathes.

„Thank you.", Hermione smiles. „I think so, too." She can see that Nina is completely enraptured by the doll. Pondering, a thought comes to her mind. She cocks her head to one side and scans Nina's face. Nodding she comes to a decision. „Do you want to have her?", she asks Nina. Immediatly her head snaps up, eyes wide, unbelieving.

„Wha-? Do you mean, I can...keep her?" As Hermione once again nods her head, a big grin breaks out on Nina's face. „Oh thank you, thank you!", she jumps Hermione, holding onto her with all the strength her little arms can muster. „I promise to take really good care of her." Hermione hugs her back.

„It's okay. I trust you will. I just have one small favour to ask.", she tells Nina. Nina swiftly nods her head rapidly.

„Anything!", she half shouts in excitement. Trying hard to keep a smile off of her face, Hermione gives her a stern look.

„Don't push your friend away because you're scared of being hurt. Just like Ariana wasn't mad at me, he won't ever forget or replace you. And you know why?" Hermione puts her hands on both sides of Nina's face, focusing all her attention on her. „Best friends can never be replaced. Have you wondered why you two became best friends on not with someone else? It's because you chose each other. And that choice makes you special to one another. Caleb could've been friends with anyone at this orphanage, but he chose to be your friend. And no new friend he meets with his new parents can change that. You two are family.

Understand?" Nina nods her head that 'yes' she understands. And she really does. She's Caleb's best friend and he's hers and no matter how many other friends he'll have away from _Roberts_ will change that. Suddenly a thought comes to her mind.

„But how will I talk to him? We've never spent more time than a few days away from each other." And once again tears threaten to spill down her face. Another pondering look enters Hermione's face as she thinks about the question.

„Leave that to me, okay?", she replies. Confused, Nina simply agrees, them jumps up as another thought enters her mind.

„I have to apologize to him!", she yells and runs out of the room, Ariana clutched in her right hand tightly. Nina speeds down the stairs and out into the courtyard, scanning it just to notice Caleb standing next to Ron, looking at a small doll with black hair and green eyes. „Caleb!", she screams. Confused, the small boy looks up and sees his best friend running towards him, a doll clutched in her hand, too. Huffing and puffing she skids to halt in front of him, almost running into him. „I'm so sorry...for what I said...I was sad because... you're leaving soon and I'll miss you...so much.", Nina exhales between deep inhales of breaths. Caleb simply hugs her tightly.

„I'll miss you, too. But it's okay because you'll always be my best friend. We'll see each other at Hogwarts.", he exclaims, smiling widely as he pulls back a little.

„Yeah, I guess so."

One week later a small parcel arrives at _Roberts_ orphanage for Nina. Wondering who it's from she takes the small card attached to it. It's from Hermione.

Dear Nina,

this is a two-way mirror. Give the second one to Caleb and you two will always be able to talk to each other. It may not bring him back, but at least you'll still be in contact. Simply call his name to connect the mirrors. His will feel warm when called.

Love, Hermione

Grinning widely, Nina opens the parcel and as described finds two mirrors the size of two of her hands inside it. Quickly she runs to Caleb's room, where he is currently packing. „Caleb! Caleb, look what Hermione sent us." Proudly she hands Caleb one of the mirrors but Caleb simply gives her a funny look.

„Why does she give us mirrors?", he asks Nina confused.

„Because we can talk to each other that way. Look, I call your name – Caleb – and your mirror should be warm. Is it warm?", she asks excitedly.

„It is.", Caleb says in wonder. „Hey, I can see your face!" His voice rises a pitch, joining her giddiness. In that moment, Nina decides that perhaps Caleb being adopted will not mean the end of the world. It still hurts but she has come to terms with it. After all, they're best friends. Forever.


	2. Beyond The Veil - Round 1

**Round 1: NOTPs** **Write your Seeker's NOTP: Harry/Sirius** **Beyond The Veil**

"SIRIUS!" Harry screamed. As he crossed the room, his breath left his lungs in short, painful puffs; all the running and shouting had put a great strain on them. He still had to be there, just there, beyond the veil. Harry would simply pull him back and they'd be re-united once more. The other option was too painful to even consider.

Just as he arrived in front of the veil, two strong arms pulled him back.

"You can't save him, Harry, he's gone." Remus Lupin – one of Sirius' best friends – pressed out beside his ear. Harry could hear the strain in his voice, the effort it took him, too, to keep his emotions in check.

"No..." he whispered. "NO! I won't accept it. PLEASE, there has to be a way! No..." A few tears trailed down his cheeks as he stared into the semi see-through material in front of him. It looked more like solid smoke than anything else, wavering even though there was no breeze.

Why, oh why had he been so stupid to ignore Hermione's concerns. She had told him it might be a trap. Oh, but Harry was always too bloody stubborn to listen, his mind set on rescuing his lover.

How marvelous they had been together.

It had been an almost instant attraction, though none of the two had immediately recognized it for what it was. Sirius had seen him as a replacement for James. Harry had seen him as the first real link to his parents, his ticket to get away from the sad parody of a childhood. Harry had been the first to come around to it.

Sirius and Harry were laughing together in the sitting room, one of the few rooms one could enter without fear of being attacked by some animal, plant ,or hexed furniture. Sirius was telling Harry stories from the Marauders' and Lily's Hogwarts time.

"-and then James ran away with it, waving Lily's bra around in the air. You should've seen her. I think this was the day she officially hated him. I've never seen her so furious after that again." Sirius and Harry were howling from laughter, wiping tears from their eyes.

Harry loved hearing stories about his parents' lives. He always felt closer somehow and...it gave him an excuse to talk to Sirius. Of course, he knew he could always talk to him. Sirius was his godfather after all, but there was only so much he could reasonably ask him before it became pathetic, and luckily his parents' school days fell into that category.

"I think I can safely imagine how Hermione would react if I did this now. I think her and Lily would've been great friends – if they were the same age of course." Harry mused loudly. Sirius watched him closely, something in his eyes Harry couldn't quite put a finger on.

"So you think they couldn't have been friends because of the age difference?" Sirius asked Harry.

"I mean, if my Mum was still alive she'd be in her mid-thirties and a mother. She probably wouldn't have felt that close to a teenager. Hermione would've loved talking to someone older. Not as immature as we always are." Harry shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.

"So you don't consider us friends." It was more of a statement. Sirius looked a little bitter saying it. Harry watched him closely, then shook his head.

"No. We're not friends." Hurt flashed over Sirius' face before it blocked all emotion from showing. He gave a sharp nod.

"Right. I'm your godfather." Harry looked pensive, watching a small spider crawl up the family tree. It was currently on the face of Sirius' grand-father.

"You are. But that's not the reason I can't see you as a friend." Sirius was officially confused.

"Then what is if it's not that? Am I simply too old? Too adult-y?" Harry had to laugh at that.

"I think it's safe to say you're as un-adult-y as me. And I don't care about the age difference. I just...when I look at you there's just...more. Do you know what I mean?" He was pleading Sirius with his eyes to understand. "I can't see you as a friend because it wouldn't be enough." For a short moment Harry thought he saw recognition on Sirius' face before it was gone again.

"Yeah. I'm family. A father-figure." Harry shook his head, pulling on his hair in frustration. It was sticking up in every direction, just as messy as James' hair had always been, Sirius noted.

"No. You're not a father or a friend. You're...a lover." The last part came as a whisper, as though Harry thought if he said it just low enough no one would know and he wouldn't run jeopardy of losing something he had – namely the relationship he had built with Sirius thus far.

Sirius was shocked and pained and hopeful and disgusted. Shocked, because never in the time he had known Harry would he have thought him to feel that way. Pain, because it reminded him so much of the love he had felt towards James. Hope, because now this what Harry gave him was like a light at the end of a long, dark journey through a tunnel. Disgust, because he was repulsed by himself, repulsed that he would even consider this notion. What did he have to offer? What could Harry possibly want from him? Sirius was old, broken from his years in Azkaban – he had lost a good part of his looks and he was a runaway. There was nothing there for Harry who was light pure and love and hope. Harry was too good for him, and Sirius knew that.

Of course, Harry didn't know this reasoning. He just saw the emotions flitting over his face until it finally settled on resignation. "Harry...we can't." A bitter smile played on Harry's face, never reaching his eyes.

"Right. I knew you wouldn't want me...stupid to even bring up." Panic suddenly raced through Sirius' body. He shook his head violently.

"It's not that, Harry. Why wouldn't I want you. You're next to perfect. Believe me, if I could, I'd take you in a heartbeat."

"Then why don't you?" Harry shouted. "If you want me and I want you then what is so damn complicated? I don't see anything complicated." He was panting, pacing in front of Sirius who was still sitting dazedly in his armchair. "Please," Harry pleaded with him. "what do I have to do? Why won't you take me." The hurt was explicitly present in his eyes, sorrow drowning them both, weighing the air in the room down. Sirius idly wondered why no one thus far had come looking for them.

"Because I'm no good for you." the answer came finally. "You're everything that's right and I'm so wrong for you. I can't be so selfish, Harry. Don't make me selfish." Sirius needed for Harry to understand, to see reason. He had stopped his pacing and simply stared into Sirius' eyes. It was intense, and Sirius felt naked under his gaze.

"Maybe I'm the selfish one. Maybe I don't care that I'm forcing you to be selfish." Sirius wasn't sure this was meant for him or if perhaps it was just Harry thinking aloud. He didn't have much time to think any more though as Harry slowly approached him where he still was seated in his armchair, which was wide enough for plenty of him. Sirius shrank back a little.

Where had all his confidence gone? He was Sirius Black, not some little school girl too scared to ask her crush out. Yet, strangely enough he didn't have the courage to meet Harry had on. Harry who seemed to have absorbed all the confidence Sirius lacked. Harry who was now standing just in front of him, the only sound in the room their erratic breathing.

"Harry, please think about this. Take your time." Sirius tried to plead with him one last time before he loosened all restraints in his body.

"I'm done constantly thinking, worrying. Just once I will be selfish and not think about the consequences." And Harry pounced.

Of course it didn't stop there. They got together shortly after, just before Harry went back to school. They would meet up over the holidays with Sirius in dog form and go to the abandoned playground where Dudley and his goons liked to play 'Harry Hunting'. Whenever they were at Grimmauld Place they would either sit in the sitting room and talk and laugh or meet in Sirius's old bedroom and enjoy their time alone.

They spent a brilliant year and a half this way and both had never felt happier. Until one day their biggest fight yet started.

Harry and Sirius were lying on Sirius' bed in his room, legs intertwined beneath the cover, Sirius spooning Harry from behind. They were relaxed and satisfied, both feeling complete – at least Sirius had thought they were until Harry started to talk.

"Sirius?"

"Yeah, love?" Harry laughed a little at that, but it sounded humourless.

"Yeah, you always call me that." Harry mumbled under his breath. Had Sirius been anyone else he probably wouldn't have caught it, but as his animagus form was a dog he had especially good hearing. Sirius tightened his hold on his lover.

"Is everything alright?" he asked Harry cautiously. Something in his voice had put him on alert. He could feel Harry shrug.

"I was just wondering...You loved my Dad, James, right?" Sirius sighed. This again.

"I did, pup. I'll probably always do. Just like you probably loved someone else." Harry wiggled out of his hold and turned around to look him in the eyes.

"I don't though. Never have. Loved that is. No one...but you." Harry averted his eyes. Even though they have been together for so long, none of them had said it, yet. Of course they had felt it in tender touches and caring kisses, but never had they said it out loud. Harry could hear Sirius suck in air in shock.

"Pup...I...I don't know what to say...are you sure?" Even Sirius winced as he said that. He knew Harry hated it when people asked him if he was sure. He had heard it too often when telling people things. The incident with Cedric last summer had been just one of them. Understandably, anger entered Harry's eyes and face at hearing those words. Sirius should know better.

"I don't know Sirius. You tell me, am I sure? Do I know myself or do you know me better than even I do, too, like all those others." He pushed away from Sirius' embrace, getting up from bed, moving to stand there in the middle of the room.

"I do know you better than anyone else, love, which is why I'm sorry I said that. I shouldn't have."

"Damn right, you shouldn't have." Harry rounded on him. "You know I hate it when people call me a liar." He suddenly went still, anger leaving his stance replaced by hurt. "You should know better."

Sirius didn't know what to say. There was so much sorrow in his lover's voice. He hadn't been like this since Cedric's death just half a year ago. He was surprised when Harry spoke up again, having thought him to wait for an answer. Apparently, Sirius had taken too long.

"Do you love me? Because I love you. But sometimes – like now – it feels like you don't really know me, like you don't want to know me. Like, in your eyes, I'm not my own person...just...just James' son. A secondary replacement for James." It was truly heartbreaking the way Harry said 'James' as if he wasn't his father anymore.

"At first you were." Sirius voice broke him out of his thoughts. Shock settled in the room, both occupants looking surprised by the comment. Harry because he wouldn't have thought Sirius so willing to admit it, Sirius because he couldn't believe it was actually the truth.

Bitterness settled on Harry's shoulders. He should've known. He turned and went to leave the room, not wanting his ex-lover to see his tears. He was stopped by a hand though. Sirius had gotten up and gone to his lover.

"But then I learned how different you were to him. It's true, you look uncannily like James." Harry humorlessly snorted at that. "But in character you're nothing like James. Sure, you're both Gryffindors, courageous, extremely protective of those you love. But where james was overconfident, you're uncertain. Where he was rash, you're overthinking."

"That sounds to me like he is a much better deal." Harry's voice was quiet.

"It does, doesn't it." Sirius mused. "But that's just because you stopped me before I could say all the things that make you not better but still worth it. You care even for those you don't love is unconditional. You have such a great gift for hope. And you could accept me whereas, James never could. I was his best friend, but he never looked at me the way you do, Harry, he never looked at me with this unconditional love. He never gave me so much hope.

That's why you're better for me than James ever was. I love you because you're so different to James." Sirius patiently waited for Harry to turn around. Their eyes locked, smoky grey ones with vibrant green ones, both just looking and assessing the other, looking for a sign, not even sure what kind of sign. It came in Harry leaning in to kiss him, and he knew all was good and forgiven.

But that was in the past, Harry thought, feeling incredibly lost. It became 'in the past the' moment the green jet of light had hit Sirius in the chest and he had watched the life leave his lover's eyes, replacing the smoky grey with a dull, milky colour. Eyes he had loved so much that would never look at him again. Sirius Orion Black was gone forever, gone beyond the veil where Harry could never reach him.


	3. The Magical Menagerie - Round 2

Round 2: The Magical Menagerie – A Life in Three Acts

The Magical Menagerie: This is where the cat, half-kneazle, we know as Crookshanks' life began, but thankfully not where it ended.

 **Act 1**

Crookshanks was born on May 1, 1981 in a back room of the Magical Menagerie. He stayed there for a month and a half and was then bought by one Sirius Black as a present for his cooped up friends on July 12. From that point on, this lovely cat was known as Robin. James Potter, new owner of the aforementioned cat, had recently seen the movie "Robin Hood" – thanks to his wife Lily – and the name had stuck.

The small kitten was a welcomed addition to the small family, with baby Harry liking to feel the fluffiness and softness of the cat's fur. Lily Potter took great joy in having her son sit on her lap, with the kitten curled up on his tiny legs. She knew it wouldn't last for long, as Robin would grow faster than Harry.

This resulted in the cat quickly maturing, while Harry remained little, young and rambunctious. Once he had overcome the novel softness of the cat's fur, he had realized, that Robin was a living being. Which meant he would run away when chased. Harry took great joy in chasing and being chased. He was one of those babies that ran away as soon as they could walk, as well as grabbing at everything in reach and putting it in his mouth. A normal baby like every other.

Except, of course, for the accidental magic.

For what made Harry special was the fact that he was a wizard, just like his parents and their friends. So, of course, no one was surprised, when Sirius Black – his loving godfather – gifted him for his first birthday with a small, magical, flying broom. Lily was outraged and scared for her baby's safety. James, however, was grateful his son got to play with something fun and not solely educational (his wife's wish) and was slightly proud — that his son was already flying! What a great Quidditch player would he be in a few years!

Robin hated that flying broom. Where Harry had been too young and too slow to catch him before, he was now more than fast enough and caught up with him even on higher places he hadn't been able to reach before, like the sofa. It was a serious problem.

So it came that one day Robin was lying on the sofa, when the obnoxious little kid known as Harry Potter once again flew around on his toy broom. He was laughing loudly and squealing and Robin really wanted to sleep. He felt like a parent, always giving up free time for his kitten. Were cats able to sigh, he would've sighed non-stop.

On this particular day, however, Lily Potter was very busy in the kitchen. James Potter was doing who knew what in the back yard. This left Robin alone in supervising the baby. Harry was flitting around the room, being happy, when he spotted the fluffy cat on the sofa. He had learned over the last month that when you moved towards a particular spot, the whole flying contraption moves towards that spot. So little Harry moved towards the ball of fluff, not really sensing just how fast he was approaching it.

Robin had been watching him warily; he was used to Harry coming, but this time he had nowhere to go, as the toddler was already almost on top of him.

This was the cat's first accident and how he got that little scar, just at the far right side of his belly. Lily heard the crash, a child's wailing and a cat's meowing in pain and came running. She found her son sitting on the sofa; his toy broom was broken and one small piece of it was sticking out of their cat's fur, the spot slowly losing blood.

It was only one of many wounds the cat suffered from. Those that came after, however, were never by someone he liked and cared for. For Robin was put back in the Magical Menagerie when the Potters died on October 31, 1981 and their son Harry was swept away to some other place. Minerva McGonagall had found him, curled up in one corner of the burnt down house. She felt pity at this sight and decided to put him where someone else would be able to buy him: the Magical Menagerie.

 **Act 2**

Robin stayed for long years in that place. Wizards and witches alike had wanted to buy him, but never had he let them, attacking anyone who tried to take him away. They were simply not the Potters and would never be them.

He watched countless people buy animals and things for them. One time for example, he was witness to a small boy with mousy brown hair, slightly chubby cheeks, come in with his grandmother, in search of an animal. He was nervous, Robin could tell. The boy's eyes were wide and flitting from one side of the room to the other any time an animal made a sound.

In the end, he bought a toad. Trevor, he called her. A strange boy, the cat decided. He reminded Robin of a kitten: at first, hiding behind his mother during their first time outside of their birth place, before slowly becoming more and more accustomed to the surroundings and curiously watching anything and everything. Robin watched scenes like these a lot.

He became friends with a white snow owl. Sadly, she was bought by some big brute, but she always came back to him, whenever she could. It was a strange friendship, that of an owl and a cat. They couldn't talk to one another and Robin was its natural enemy, but somehow they got along anyway, occasionally even cuddling up the owl came back, she smelled somehow familiar, like home. It was very soothing to Robin. He liked her even more than before for it.

Then one sunny afternoon, two years later, a witch about thirteen years old, accompanied by two young wizards her age, entered the Magical Menagerie. There was something about one of the boys who came with her. She was the one who wanted to buy him, but the boy – black, messy hair, so much like the cat's late owner, and green eyes, so much like his wife's – was the one Robin recognized. This was their son, Harry; his kitten! He was not small anymore, no longer a kitten, but he smelled the same.

So Robin let himself be bought by this girl. He knew they were friends, so wherever she went, he would go, too. He was right. That same summer, he met the owl outside of the Magical Menagerie. Harry had named her Hedwig. Robin – or now Crookshanks, as he begrudgingly accepted – thought that the name suited her.

The girl, Hermione, liked to talk to him — just the way Lily Potter used to do. She was muggleborn, too, and liked the same things that Lily liked. She talked about Harry. Told him all the things that had happened while he had been separated from his kitten. Crookshanks vowed to himself he would protect Harry no matter what from then on. Starting with getting him away from that traitorous rat.

 **Act 3**

Crookshanks knew Peter Pettigrew. How could he not? The man had come over lots of times, back when he had still lived with the Potters. He had played with him and Harry, talked to Lily and James and Sirius. (Sirius: The one who had bought Crookshanks; the one in whom the half-kneazle would forever be thankful, for bringing him to his family.) So he found Sirius and helped him enter Hogwarts, then the Gryffindor common room. He helped catch the rat. That was not as easy as he would have liked. The stupid boy, Ron Weasley, one of Harry's friends, was always there, keeping that traitorous rat from him. At least he had managed to wound him a couple of times.

He was angry, though, that Pettigrew had managed to escape that night. It had partly been his fault, but keeping the kids from the werewolf had been priority number one. Traitorous rats could wait.

Following that night, Crookshanks liked to spend time with Sirius. He knew he didn't recognize him. Crookshanks was old, even for a half-kneazle, and the last time Sirius had seen him he had still been but a kitten. He couldn't be mad at him for not recognizing him.

Sirius liked him anyway, even without knowing him for who he was. Sirius Black was always good for a cuddle, a scratch behind the ears or on his tummy. He was warm, familiar and home, just like Harry. So whenever Harry and Sirius were together and both scratching him … well, that was heaven to Crookshanks.

Two years later, Harry and Hermione came back from some expedition changed people. They were troubled, sad; Harry even more so. Sirius was gone, Crookshanks realized. It made him sad and angry that another part of his family was gone. But he still had Harry – and now Hermione, who he had come to like very much. He would keep Harry safe.

Just that this time he could not simply chase a rat and everything would be okay. This time, his family was troubled by different things, things he could not really help them with. It was incredibly frustrating. Crookshanks could do nothing, but offer consolation with a cuddle and watch. Watch them get hurt, watch them being pulled back together, watch them break down again.

Then they were gone. For almost an entire year, he did not see them. Crookshanks did not know if they were okay or hurt or – the worst fear – dead like the rest of his family. Even Hedwig, his only animal friend had died.

Finally, after some big event, where everyone had gone away, leaving the house empty, they were back. Hermione and Harry, that is. Remus Lupin, another person of his family, had died at this big event – a battle, Hermione had said. Apparently, whoever had killed the Potters was now dead and gone. No one would be a threat to his left-over family anymore.

Five years later, Hermione married the stupid boy that had kept the rat from him. He still did not like him and the feeling was mutual. So Hermione gave him to Harry. He was back with his kitten. Only now, though, Harry was the one with kittens. Two of them were already playing around. One was the age Harry had been when Crookshanks had first become part of the Potter family.

Harry's wife was a redhead, too. It was oddly familiar. The two babies even looked a lot like Harry had back then, too. He had a family once again; a real family and not the broken, patched together one he had had before. Crookshanks started over with them.

He watched Lily Luna Potter come home for the first time with her tired mother and proud father. He became once more – or lots of times – victim to little kids on toy racing brooms. This time however, he got to watch the whole childhood. He was there, when they were put on the Hogwarts Express. They did not need him anymore.

On May 1, 2017, at the age of 36, Crookshanks Robin Potter died happily in his owner, Harry Potter's arms.

The Magical Menagerie: This is where the cat, half-kneazle, we know as Crookshanks' life began, but thankfully not where it ended.


	4. WOLFSTAR - PickUp Line Competition

Wolfstar ━ Pick-Up Line Challenge

 _Write 300-600 words, use 1-5 pick-up lines (per person)_

"Sad to say this, mate, but you definitely suck at this game." Sirius, extremely affronted at this accusation, looked in mock-horror at his old friend.

"I do not! I'm not a dementor, now am I? So I can't suck." He grinned, looking very smug about this joke. Remus knew he'd been waiting for weeks for someone to use the word 'suck.' "You wound me, Moony; truly you do."

Remus sighed in acceptance. There was no use fighting Sirius; he was as stubborn as a gnome, running off when someone tried to catch them.

"Very funny, Sirius, and so very mature of you," he responded, his voice very dry. Sirius flashed him a roguish grin in return.

"You know you love it, Moons." Yeah, Remus was not sarcastic at all when he answered that. Nope, not one bit at all.

"Sure, Pads. Love it as much as I love the full moon." The laugh that left Sirius' mouth following his statement, was every bit the bark of the dog its owner was.

"Good one. Oh, that reminds me of a good pick-up line." Remus groaned. Sirius had been on a trip, making up pick-up lines and bad jokes. This was only one in a hundred thousand he had been making for weeks. Today had been relatively quiet on that matter. Remus should have known it was too good too last.

"Listen: 'Is it the full moon, yet? Because I swear something in my pants is transforming.' You should use that one, Moony!" Remus gaped at him. Sometimes he really wondered what exactly the neurons in his friend's brain did wrong. Was it simply the way they were connected or did they misfire regularly?

"Padfoot, I'm not using that on a girl. She'd be weirded out and/or frightened before even considering me!" Remus blurted out in exasperation. Sirius pouted.

"You know I worked really hard on that one. Ooh, I could work with that... Let me think about it for a second." And off he was again, thinking up yet another stupid pick-up line he would use on some poor, unsuspecting girl, who had simply planned on enjoying his pretty face. Remus was quite uncertain on some days, whether his friend would ever be able to settle down. At twenty, it did not seem like it, just yet.

"Got it! 'You might want to put up Protego because I'm so hard I'll blow.'" Sirius was wiggling his eyebrows.

Remus simply slapped his hand to his forehead, before blushing at the suggestiveness of the topic. He really shouldn't anymore, but Sirius managed that regularly. "Oh come on, Moons. That was a good one!" Remus sighed one last time before clasping his friend's shoulder with his right hand.

"You know, Sirius, you're a star right?" Sirius cocked his head to one side, pondering the question.

"Well, I'm named after a star. So...kinda? Why?"

"Because I shouldn't be the one exploding from the heat between us." This time, Sirius was the one gaping at his friend, before moisture began to form in his eyes.

"I managed to corrupt Moony." A dream-like look appeared on his face. "They all said I couldn't do it but I proved them wrong." Turning to his friend, happiness practically leaking off his body, he took Remus' hands in his and squeezed. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered.

Remus was left wondering: What had he done?

 **Pick-Up Lines Used:**

Is it the full moon, yet? Because I swear something in my pants is transforming.

You might want to put up Protego because I'm so hard I'll blow

Sirius, you're a star right? Because I shouldn't be the one exploding from the heat between us.


	5. The Secret Truth - Round 3

Dare: Write a story in which someone's true feelings are revealed.

Round 3: The Secret Truth

 _August 31, 1991_

 _Dear Mum,_

 _tomorrow I'll start at Hogwarts. I'm not sure exactly why I'm writing this. I know you'll never read this. You'll never read anything I write. But they said in a book that talking about it helps and since I could never tell father, this is my only option._

 _He's been different since you've been gone. He's angry a lot, he never really talks to me except scold me if I'm not good enough at school work. My governess says I'm exceptionally good at maths and drawing but he doesn't care. He just wants me to do well in economics and business and theory of dark magic. I don't think they teach the last at Hogwarts. I'll have to ask a teacher._

 _I'm scared, Mum. I'm afraid I won't find any friends, that I'll stay lonely forever. I didn't use to be this scared when you were still here._

 _I miss you,_

 _Theo_

 _September 17, 1991_

 _Dear Mum,_

 _I'm in Slytherin. I knew I'd be there but I had secretly hoped I'd be sorted into Ravenclaw. Being a Slytherin apparently means you don't have friends. It means you don't ask 'stupid' questions and my question about theory of dark magic was a stupid one; at least Flint said so. He's way older than me and really scary. He's got this sneer all the time and glares at you whenever you pass him._

 _I'm lonely. The other Slytherins think I'm weird because I like books and only Ravenclaws like books according to them. There's one other girl who really likes books. I see her a lot in the library and she's always reading those huge books about really heavy stuff that's way too advanced for her._

 _But we never talk. She's in Gryffindor so makes a friendship with her impossible. She wouldn't want to talk to me anyway. None of the other houses want to. Being Slytherin means being in solitude, it means that you're evil._

 _I don't want to be evil. I don't want to end up like father. I really wish I had another father. One who hasn't been in Slytherin so I could be sorted into Ravenclaw. They all look like interesting people and they discuss interesting things during lunch. We never discuss anything at lunch apart from how disgusting mudbloods are and how stupid they are. It's really quite boring. They always repeat the same things father's already told me a thousand times._

 _They're filthy and stupid and they take our magic away. But really, if they did take our magic away, wouldn't we all be without magic by now? There are so many of them and so little of us purebloods. It doesn't make sense! But I can't ever voice that lest I become a blood-traitor like the Weasleys._

 _I miss you, Mum.  
Love, Theo_

 _October 3, 1991_

 _She's a mudblood! How can she be a mudblood? She's the most intelligent girl in our year and the best at magic. How is that possible? Mudbloods are supposed to be stupid and she isn't. Is she really stealing our magic and that's the reason she's so good at it? But it wouldn't explain her intelligence._

 _I think Malfoy's really annoyed with her. He's always picking on how ugly she is with all that bushy hair and her huge front teeth. She's not that bad, honestly. Her hair could use a straightening charm, sure, and her teeth are slightly asymmetrical but she'll probably grow out of that._

 _There's something strange and surprising about Hermione Granger. Something I can't quite pin point. I wish I could talk to you. I'm sure you could tell me whether she's really as evil as she is. Because if she was, wouldn't she be in Slytherin? But a mudblood - or muggleborn as the other houses call them - would never be sorted into Slytherin. She wouldn't last a day. I'm a pureblood and I'm just skidding by. At least father's not here to breath on my neck. I'm still unsure whether I'll return for Christmas or not._

 _I miss you, Mum.  
Love, Theo_

 _November 2, 1991_

 _Dear Mum,_

 _she was attacked. Well, not her specifically but she almost got hurt. A troll was let into Hogwarts. Dumbledore made us go back to our common rooms when he heard about it at the feast. The troll was said to be in the dungeon but Slytherin and Hufflepuff are in the dungeons. How could he be so stupid to send us back there? It didn't matter in the end since the troll wasn't there but on the second floor in a girl bathroom. That's where she was! Hermione Granger (I really don't know what to call her, Mum. In public I have to call her Granger or mudblood but I'd really like to know her privately and be allowed to call her Hermione. It's a nice name.) was in there. Merlin knows why, but she wasn't at the feast when the troll arrived. Two boys from Gryffindor, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, saved her. I kind of wish I had been the one to save her. She would've been forced to talk to me so that would've been nice._

 _She seems as lonely as me. She's always alone in the library without any friends. Even at the meals she's reading and sitting wherever there's some space to the other Gryffindors. I thought Gryffindors are supposed to be the nice ones, the ones who don't care about prejudice. Shouldn't they like her? She earns them tons of house points and is always willing to help people. So why do they shun her? Is it because of her blood status, too? I can't imagine that because another muggleborn in Gryffindor has friends and he's not nearly as smart as her._

 _I simply don't understand people, Mum.  
Love, Theo_

 _December 24, 1991_

 _Dear Mum,_

 _Merry Christmas! I've decided to go home. I still don't have any friends with whom I could spend Christmas and at home I can at least read all the books I want without anyone calling me a bookworm._

 _They're picking on me because I read a lot. I know from the first time I did it that as a Slytherin you're not allowed to read at the meals or do your school work. Everyone looked at me as if I had some kind of disease._

 _Malfoy picks on me, specifically. I think it's the same as with Hermione (I've decided to call her that since she'll probably never read this and her name is nice.). Malfoy is jealous because I'm better at school than he is and his father will be angry with him for that. It's bad enough a muggleborn beats him and a girl on top of that. Malfoy's not very invested in his school work, though. I always see him strutting around with his goons, Crabbe and Goyle. They're like bodyguards always beside him. It's quite ridiculous. I'm pretty sure they were trained and hired by his father to be like that. They don't seem to be good for anything else, anyway._

 _I made you something for Christmas. It's a rose made from snow. You always wanted to have roses and you told me about the ice-ones on your wedding day, back in the hospital. It took some time and a little help from Madame Pince, the librarian, but I got it right. It's pretty and sparkles in the sun. I put it on your grave with a preservation spell. I hope you like it._

 _I think father still misses you, even if he's really bad at showing it. I always will._

 _Love, Theo_

 _October 14, 1992_

 _Dear Mum,_

 _I think I just made my first friend. She's a Ravenclaw and quite strange. The others don't like her because they don't understand her. Quite like they don't understand me._

 _Her name's Luna and she's a first year but already mighty smart. It's a little scary just how smart she is. It's taken me quite some time but I think I figured most of her comments out by now. She likes to speak in images. Though she does appear very sure of the existence of some animals called 'Crumple-Horned Snorkacks'. They're apparently invisible and shy. Perfect explanation for animals no one's ever spotted, right? Maybe a little too perfect in my opinion._

 _What I like most about her, however, is her open-mindedness. You really would've liked her, Mum. She doesn't care that I'm a Slytherin or that my father used to be a Death Eater. She doesn't care that I read so much and that I don't have a problem with muggleborns._

 _After last year I thought I'd never find a friend here, but now I'm happy, I think. I have some bubbly feeling in my chest and I have to smile everytime I see Luna and I don't feel as lonely as before. We're lonely together now. Is that happiness? The last time I even remotely felt like that was with you, when I was five, and you pushed me on a swing on a muggle playground. I think that's my favourite memory with you._

 _I still miss you, Mum, but it gets better now. It doesn't feel like something inside me is tearing up and leaving a large hole anymore. I think it's because of her._

 _Love, Theo_

 _March 27, 1993_

 _Dear Mum,_

 _Hermione is petrified. I just heard about it from some Gryffindors in the library. I'm so...so angry! She never did anything to anyone. She doesn't deserve to be like that. I went to visit her. Madame Pomfrey looked at me really strangely when I told her I was there to visit her. I felt strange, too. I mean, I've never even really talked to her apart from in Potions or the likes. But I just had to. It felt like I couldn't breathe until I saw her because if someone as smart and magically strong as Hermione can be petrified, how is anyone else safe?_

 _I suppose I'm safe because I'm a pureblood. I hate that word. When I got home last summer and told father about Hermione, he...well you can imagine what he did. Safe to say, I'll never talk about her at home ever again._

 _It was horrible the way he talked about muggleborns as if they are cattle. If Hermione's cattle, then I and everyone else is a flobberworm. Mindless, purposeless and spineless._

 _Aside from Luna, maybe. I think she comes very close to Hermione in terms of bravery and intelligence. I told her about you and father. She cried for me...or you, I'm not sure. Girls are kind of hard to interpret sometimes. I guess, father is supposed to help me there but I know I'll simply have to deal with it on my own._

 _I love you, Theo._

 _February 28, 1994_

 _Mum,_

 _I swear I could kiss her! She punched Malfoy! She bloody punched Malfoy in the face and called him a cockroach. I believe I've never laughed as hard as when the little shit entered the common room, swearing and calling her names. Hermione Granger is the most amazing witch I've ever met. Truly. Even Luna laughed at that particular act of violence and Luna is all for hugging your foes to death. She'd probably even be able to. For being so incredibly tiny that girl sure has a lot of strength._

 _Anyway, I need to run along. I promised to study with Luna for her Astronomy quiz. I'm still really good at it. I always remember us watching the stars and you pointing out all the constellations and their stars. I'll always cherish that, I promise._

 _Love, Theo_

 _December 24, 1994_

 _Dear Mum,_

 _today was the Yule Ball and Merlin was I surprised; I was actually having fun! I asked Luna. This was our very first public outing together. Now everyone knows we're friends. I'm not sure how I feel about that but I guess it's not too bad because Hermione smiled at me as she saw me dancing with little Luna. I swear she gets tinier every year!_

 _But she sure looked pretty in her dress. It was quite the fascinating sight, too. I know she isn't one for conventional but that dress was crazy. I loved it. It was just so perfectly 'Luna'! Just the way Hermione's dress fitted her perfectly. I always knew she would outgrow her bushy hair and her asymmetrical teeth but tonight she's proven it to everyone. Even Draco finally shut his mouth about her and grudgingly admitted that she looked 'nice'. That's the understatement of the century. She looked positively radiant. I was one step from asking her to dance with me...but then my brain kicked in again. As much as I would love to, I could never taint something so beautiful with my kind of filth. Funny, how I'm the filth when until first year I always thought I was better than people like her. Fate loves irony, doesn't she, Mum?_

 _Love, Theo_

 _July 12, 1996_

 _I can't do it! Please, Mum, you know I can't do it. He wants me. He wants me! How could he want me? He should want Draco or Crabbe and Goyle. They want it! They do, but I don't._

 _Father is so proud. He's never smiled at me as brilliant as he has today. Finally all his patience is showing fruition. Finally, his son turns out alright, finally I'm useful._

 _I don't want to be bloody useful to him! The war has started again and I knew that. Of course, I knew. How could I not? Father was overjoyed when I came back from school back in fourth year. His Lord had returned. The man that ruined my father and thousands of other people has returned and there's nothing I can do. Even if I refuse to join him, he'll just take another student._

 _I have until my seventeenth birthday. Then I have to decide or rather then I'll be branded like cattle. That's what I'll be, what we'll all be. Cattle shooed around on a field overseen by the Dark Lord. I've never dreaded October as much in my life before._

 _I hope he never gets to Luna and Hermione. Luna is too pure. He could never convince her to join him and Hermione...he'd probably be fascinated by her. She's a muggleborn, yet she's so much more than all his men put together and it's hard not to see that. Even a blind man could._

 _So he'll want her for his little collection. He'll break her, suck her dry until she isn't useful anymore, until she isn't Hermione anymore._

 _Then he'll kill her, say she was a worthless mudblood, anyway, even though he'll know that's never true. I can't let him have her, Mum! Even if I have to join him to protect them both, I can't let Voldemort have them._

 _I'm scared, Mum.  
Love, Theo_

 _December 30, 1997_

 _I failed._

 _Luna is at Malfoy Manor, being held in a cell because her father was stupid enough to write the truth. How can a man be so dumb? He must've known there would be consequences. He simply must have!_

 _So Luna is gone and I have no clue where Hermione is. Just like Luna she never appeared at Hogwarts but I know nothing of her. She's not at Malfoy Manor and I haven't seen her on Azkaban duty. That either means she's still out there or...dead. It can't be, though. The Dark Lord would have put her body on display if he had her. And I have to trust she's able to hold her own out there. According to the Lord she's with Potter and Weasley so at least she's not alone._

 _But I didn't just fail them, the two most important and most admired people in my life. No, I failed myself. I knew joining the Death Eaters would mean doing atrocious, gruesome things. Things, I'd never forget, that would haunt me forever. But here I thought I could draw a line? No. Mum, I tortured a twelve year old little girl. She had done nothing wrong. She was out of bed at night because she was hungry. They don't feed half-bloods well and Gryffindors especially so._

 _They caught her. I've become a monster, Mum. I can't do this anymore. It's tearing me apart, the way it did when you left. How could I do this to a little girl?_

 _I saw her fear, I could smell it. Her eyes were begging me not to do it and I did anyway. That makes me as bad as Voldemort. I want out. I want out._

 _May 30, 1998_

 _Dear Theo,_

 _I admit I was surprised to find this in my bag after our escape from Malfoy Manor. Surprised doesn't even cover it, I thought it was cursed, for sure. Imagine my incredulity after scanning this little journal with every spell I knew and there was nothing even remotely dark there._

 _Nothing, except the pain I could feel while reading those pages. For that's what it was for, right? So I could read it. And I did._

 _You can understand I was shocked; I still am after all these months. But I think I understand now. So you can have your journal back._

 _Theo, I can't give you your innocence back and I think even if I could, I wouldn't. You lost your innocence fighting for all the right reasons and taking the fight back would make you a different man. You wouldn't be the man who fought to keep Luna alive, you wouldn't be the man who threw himself in front of a Death curse so I could live. And today's your funeral._

 _I can't give you your innocence but I can give you forgiveness for all the demons you carried._

 _I forgive you, Theodore Nott. Thank you for everything you did, for believing in me all those years. I'll always remember you. I promise._

 _Love, Hermione_


	6. Against All Odds - TimeTurnerCompetition

Time Turner Competition: Against All Odds

"Together?" he asked the other boy standing opposite him.

"Together." the boy nodded encouragingly. Taking a deep breath they stretched out their arms and simultaneously locked a hand around the Cup's handle nearest them. Neither had exactly known what was going to happen, but for them to be pulled into a swirl of colour, accompanied by the feeling of being squeezed through a too-tight tube had been unexpected, to say the least.

The two boys hit a dirty floor, their breath knocked out of them.

After a moment's rest, the older boy finally opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. They were in a graveyard. The boy was mystified. Wasn't this supposed to be the end? Shouldn't they have been transported to the start of the maze?

He turned to the smaller boy, his mop of black hair messier than usual. He was still lying on the floor. The hit seemed to have taken a bit more out of him.

"The Cup's a Portkey, Harry," the older boy finally said, wonder evident in his voice. "Do you think it's part of the competition?" Harry finally lifted his head and looked around. An ominous feeling started to creep in his bones. Something was incredibly wrong with this situation. They needed to leave now!

"Cedric, I don't think it is. We should leave." Fear was evident in his voice and for once Harry didn't even try to hide it. Cedric looked confused.

"But there's got to be a reason we're here. They wouldn't just send us to this graveyard without purpose," he argued. His eyes were trained on the young boy in front of him, so it was Harry who spotted the cloaked creature quickly approaching. Cedric simply watched Harry's eyes widen just before he shouted: " Run, NOW!" and jumped up, pulling Cedric's arm. Cedric stumbled towards him in surprise.

Suddenly, he heard a hiss behind him. He turned to look, but was already falling to the ground, pulled down by Harry who exhibited an astonishing amount of strength for his size. A flash of green light lit up the whole graveyard, but Cedric only felt the tell-tale feeling of a Portkey. He held on tight to both the Cup that had been shoved in his hands and Harry who was pressed against his side.

They once again hit the ground and music started up at the sight of the two boys. Cedric was confused, scared. He looked down at Harry, who had somehow ended up half beneath him. Shock coursed through his system as Cedric realized his eyes were open without blinking and his whole body had gone limp.

Harry Potter was dead.

He had taken the curse meant for him and had paid for it with his life. Cedric felt numb. It felt unreal that the young boy who had fought so valiantly in this competition meant for people three years his senior was supposed to simply be gone like this. In a flash of light.

Cedric shook his head in denial. No, he would not accept it. He started to shake Harry, slap him lightly across the face, scream his name. He knew the potency of the Killing Curse and had he been rational, he would've realized that nothing he did would reanimate him.

But he wasn't rational. People were by his side in a matter of seconds, the music had stopped. They told him to let go, but he couldn't. This boy had given his life for him. He wouldn't give up on him now.

And he was rewarded. Against all odds, when professors and his father had pulled him from the body, Harry took a shuddering intake of air. Professor McGonagall, who had been by his side at the moment with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, almost fainted from shock.

Against all odds, Harry Potter had, again, survived the Killing Curse.


	7. The Umbridge Family - Round 4

**Task: Write about the Umbridge family.** **Round 4: Things aren't always as clear as they seem**

"Urgh! Umbridge! Why, oh why do _I_ have to have the _Umbridge family_? Seriously Jenny, there are so bloody many wizarding families that have participated in those _stupid_ wars and I have to get _them_? Do you know what Mum and Dad told me about her? She's _horrible_! They had them in DADA in their fifth year and she was mean, incompetent and forbid every fun thing!"

Rose Weasley was furious as was obvious by the way her usually only slightly rosy cheeks had flamed to a dark red that almost matched her lion's mane in colour. Had her brother Hugo seen her this way he would've called her a bloody dragon by the way her nostrils were flaring and exhaling heavy puffs in the cold air of the Hogwarts grounds.

At that moment, however, Rose did not care one bit what her little brother or anyone would've said: She was murderous and had every right to be! (At least in her opinion.)

With the newly acquired professor in History of Magic, after Professor Binns had mysteriously disappeared - and it was certainly not because of some exorcism her cousins had dappered in and Rose still refused to having had any part in it - certain changes had happened in the last months.

Classes had gotten substantially better and way more interesting than before, especially as they were talking about the two modern Wizarding Wars that had happened two decades ago, and Rose had been so excited at the prospect of researching families and their importance in the wars. She had imagined writing about her parents or perhaps her uncles or even the Malfoys - she had direct access to them through Albus after all.

But nothing had prepared her for this.

As soon as Rose had seen the name their professor had put next to hers at the board, she had tried to talk her way out of it, asking if perhaps she could instead research the McKinnons for example, but to no avail. Her professor was quite adamant she look up the Umbridge family and with them Dolores Umbridge.

When she had asked why, he had simply told her: "Things aren't always as clear as they seem. I think this will enlighten you in a lot of ways." Bugger if she knew what that was supposed to mean.

"I don't even understand why you got such a cool family! It's so unfair." she continued to rave on while her best friend simply nodded and listened and sometimes made cooing noises and petted her arm. After ten minutes Rose started to calm down and realize that she had attracted quite an audience and that perhaps this was not the best place for her frustration. Apart from the fact that she was feeling slightly ridiculous by the way Jenny was acting towards her at the moment, of course.

Taking a deep breath she apologized to her friend. "Sorry. I know you didn't choose them or my project." Jenny hummed in agreement.

"You know, I think you shouldn't be so negative from the start. True, the Umbridge your parents knew was a nasty bitch", Rose had to laugh at that, the name Umbitch unwillingly entering her mind, "but she had quite the interesting role in the second war. Perhaps you should research first and make up your mind later on, the same as you should Scorpius' offer."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was why Jenny was a Ravenclaw while Rose was a Gryffindor; Jenny was always the clear-headed and more rational of the two girls while Rose favoured hot-headed outbursts and rational thoughts later.

"I am not going on a date with Scorpius _Malfoy_ , no matter how pretty his face may be!", Rose exclaimed, annoyed at having this topic broached time and time again, before she finally sighed. "I guess there's no point postponing the inevitable so I might as well get a headstart into my research. I'll go now, see you at dinner." She waved at her friend and left to the right where the library was situated.

Figuring she might as well start with the section about pureblood families and their customs, Rose trudged through the rows of books towards the end of the library. There were mostly really old books here as a lot of wizarding customs hadn't changed a lot in the last few centuries.

An hour later, she Rose could be seen with frazzled hair, surrounded by stacks of books, looking incredibly frustrated to find that not once was there any mention of an Umbridge family in any of the books about pureblood families. The only thing Rose could deduce from that was that either she had not looked at the right book so far - which really couldn't have been the reason, she had looked at, at least, fifteen books already - or that the Umbridge family was not a pureblood one and had rather started at some point with a muggleborn or muggle marrying into the wizarding world.

This meant that Dolores Umbridge was not a pureblood, so why did she hate muggles and muggleborns - or anyone, really, who was not 'pure' in her eyes - so much?

Rose was confused. The books weren't helping but she figured as Umbridge had played a rather major role in the second wizarding war, perhaps she would be able to find something in the newspapers.

And she did, though not in the ones she had expected. Rose started her search by using a modified point-me-spell which located the last newspaper that mentioned the Umbridge name and was surprised to find that that had happened just a few years ago in the Daily Prophet issue from the 16th July 2017. Back then, the Prophet had apparently - with the help of Minerva McGonagall, current Headmistress of Hogwarts - caused quite the stir-up with lots of revealed scandals surrounding the ex-undersecretary.

The article mentioned the Blood Quills her family had told her about. That the end told about Dolores Umbridge being a half-blood didn't surprise Rose anymore as she had guessed as such. It simply confirmed her suspicions which made Rose feel incredibly smug about herself as it always did whenever she was proven right.

What did shock her, however, was the blatant misuse of her position the woman had been found guilty of as the newspaper reported. Rose knew all about the trouble Teddy's father had had at finding a job because of those anti-werewolf legislations Umbridge had pushed through the Wizengamot and the thought of branding merpeople like regular cattle - the way Umbridge had asked for - triggered a feeling of utter horror as did her apparent attack on poor old, kind Hagrid. This was a woman truly evil!

She continued to read through newspapers, uncovering more foul legislations and decrees the witch had proposed and gotten legalised through manipulation of ex-Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge. She wondered how one person could contain so much hatred for almost everything.

Everything but cats, apparently. At the pictures of Umbridge's office at the ministry and the one she had had while teaching at Hogwarts in the nineties Rose felt ready to puke and understood Professor McGonagall's sentiment that so much pink could not be a good sign.

Still, something didn't feel quite right; so she dug deeper.

In the following weeks, Rose asked for permission to leave the castle to interview a few people for her History project. Due to her being underaged she wasn't able to meet Dolores Umbridge herself in Azkaban - she probably wouldn't have told her anything, anyway, with Rose being a half-blood - but she managed to meet quite a lot of important people who were willing to indulge her.

She learned that Umbridge was the daughter to Orford Umbridge, a wizard without ambitions who used to work at the Ministry as a caretaker, and Ellen Cracknell, a muggle woman. This surprised her at first. If Umbridge's own mother was a muggle, why would she hate them?

Unless her mother was a bad woman.

She wasn't, it turned out. Her only fault was being a non-magical person and having given birth to a squib son. Rose was pretty sure that both weren't even her fault, as the magical gene usually overwrote any muggle genes one could have. Squibs were always the bearer of the magical gene's fault.

As easy as it had been to find people who despised Umbridge and loved talking about her misdeeds, Rose had encountered quite the problem while trying to find anyone who had known Dolores Umbridge personally and could say anything nice about her. In retrospect, no one wanted to be associated with her, making reliable sources hard to come by.

It was sheer luck and probably a wink of fate that only days before Christmas Rose and her family were in muggle London visiting the Christmas market, a tradition they had been upholding as far back as Rose could remember in memory of her muggle grandparents, where Rose ran into a very old woman with her son and granddaughter.

She apologized profusely but the woman laughed it off, telling her she had been through way worse. She had introduces herself as Ellen Cracknell, a name that immediately set off every alarm bell in Rose's head.

"Excuse me for being forward, Madame Cracknell, but you don't happen to have known an Orford Umbridge?" Rose asked the friendly woman, dying of curiosity. A look of sheer incredulity and slight apprehension passed over Ellen's face. Cautiously she answered.

"I do, actually. I used to be married to him. Why do you ask? You're a witch, I suppose?" Rose felt extreme excitement light up in her body. This was pure gold!

"Yes, I am! My name is Rose Weasley. I'm researching the Umbridge family for a school project. Would you perhaps...eh, that it, if you don't mind…" She was abruptly interrupted in her stuttering and blushing.

"Spit it out, girl. I won't hurt you. If you're capable of doing just a brink of what my ex-husband could do, I wouldn't be able to, anyway." She didn't look annoyed or angry which was what Rose had been sure her reaction would be. With Umbridge as her daughter, shouldn't this woman be more...unpleasant?

"Well, do you think we could meet up for some tea some time while I ask you a few questions?" They young girl was blushing a deep red, matching her hair, once again.

The woman regarded her with a shrewd look before nodding amiably. "Yes, I suppose that would be possible."

"I understand, of course, your reluctance to - wait, what?" Rose stared at her dumbly.

Rose was good at predicting people's reactions to things, this, however, never in a million years she could've predicted. What was this woman's deal? Who simply said 'yes' to some stranger who could easily hurt her and wanted to talk about an ex-husband that had basically banished her from her home because of something she had no control over and was part of a secret society? It was ridiculously stupid!

Rose narrowed her gaze, suspicious. "Why would you simply agree?" she asked with determination to figure this out, taken aback when Ellen laughed in her face.

"Don't look so shocked, girly. I'm an old woman who has to pass her time somehow and this has been the most interesting conversation I've had in years."

And that was it. Rose and Ellen met up at Ellen's, deciding it was safer in a private house rather than in a public café, lest someone should overhear them talk about magic. Rose asked questions about how Dolores Umbridge grew up and Ellen freely told her all about the happenings in the old family home.

It was an unhappy marriage. The daughter and father didn't care that it wasn't Ellen's fault that their son ended up being a squib. They blamed her - it was easiest that way, after all - making the marriage even unhappier; so the family divided and parted ways shortly after Dolores had turned fifteen and it became apparent that their son, Milonian, wouldn't be going to Hogwarts.

Ellen told her all about the mistreatment she and her son had received while Dolores had been treated like a princess by her father. At least as best as he could. Rose learned that not only did Dolores hate her mother and her muggle origins, rather she hated her father, too. She hated that he lacked everything she had: ambition, cunning, the ability to use people for her own goals. Dolores was proud of being a Slytherin, even if she had never been anything important at school like a prefect.

She hated that her father wasn't the perfect Slytherin.

In the end, Dolores Umbridge was a person with a lot of insecurities. Ellen explained how even as a kid she always had to be the best at everything with all the attention on her or she'd turn into a little terror. Ellen said it was her ex-husband's fault for coddling the girl. In the end, it was his own undoing, and Ellen was not sad to hear that he wasn't doing well without Dolores' help now that she was rotting in prison.

Rose met Ellen's son - they had shortened his name to Milo in the muggle papers as it would've been a strange name to most - and his daughter, Catrina, who was a witch.

It was strange to see how such a good mother could have born one horribly nasty child and one incredibly generous and kind one. It was also rather great to see that the wizarding gene had been passed on through Milo to his daughter, confirming Rose's theory that it wasn't the muggle gene that decided the squib but rather the wizarding gene - dormant or active.

Catrina Umbridge would start Hogwarts in a year and Rose would make sure she had it good there. Everyone would know her last name and associate her with that horrible woman who was simply her aunt whom she had never even met once in her life. Rose would show them how kind the little girl was and that a name didn't make a person.

Just as Scorpius Malfoy probably wasn't his father or grandfather.

In the end, Rose Weasley was incredibly glad she had been given this assignment and couldn't wait to hand it in. Perhaps their professor would let her read it to their class. The more people knew, the easier it would be for little Catrina.

She had learned that things weren't always as clear as they seemed. Perhaps Rose should reconsider Scorpius Malfoy's offer to go on a date, sometime.


	8. Of Handkerchiefs and Towers - Round 5

**Task: Write about a character being chivalrous.**

 **Round 5: Of Towers and Handkerchiefs**

James Potter yearningly watched after the two fifth years he had just shooed away from their hiding spot inside a broom closet to their beds for the rest of the night. His night was almost over, too, but not exactly. He was on his way to the last checkpoint of his round as Head Boy for the evening.

Head Boy had been a thing he had never anticipated. Moony was the good one with the 'fair play' behaviour and responsibility shit. James hadn't asked for this. In fact, he had laughed incredulously when he had opened his envelope and the shiny golden badge had fallen out. He had been so sure it was Sirius' idea of a bad practical joke.

Right until there was no badge falling out of Remus' envelope for if Remus didn't have it, who else would? Remus was the one with the best grades and the most admirable sense of duty as a prefect.

So it turned out not to be a joke.

James had thought Remus would be upset but funnily enough Moony thought it was a great idea stating, and James was quoting, 'I'm not the leading type, James. That's you. There's no better leader in our year; it makes sense Dumbledore chose you.'

Moony wasn't upset, Sirius thought it was the best thing ever as they would have 'someone on the inside keeping us out of trouble'. Lily Evans had not been happy to overhear this.

Lily Evans hadn't been happy to hear about James being Head Boy, period. She had started to scream in denial, then continued with insults ranging from the innocent 'insufferable toerag' - James' favourite as she had come up with that one especially for him and never called anyone but him with that name, regardless whether anyone actually knew what it meant - to the less innocent 'attention-seeking, miserable prat who's out to ruin my life'. That one had hurt slightly more.

Once it had settled in that James would be there for a whole year and not simply disappear, well...she had had no choice but to accept his presence. Oh, she didn't like it, but if there was one thing absolutely certain about Lily Evans it was her uncanny sense for responsibility. She was Head Girl and it was her responsibility to deal with the Head Boy and to make sure that this year's one wouldn't run havoc and 'ruin younger students' innocent minds'.

She had told him that on their first evening alone in the Heads' common room. The message had been very clear: Do your job, let me do mine and then leave me the hell alone, you prat.

Well, James had promised himself to do his job but never would he leave her alone and he sure as hell wasn't going to let her continue to think he was a prat. So he tried. Hard.

He was punctual, took care of things responsibly and admirably but Lily was stubborn and whenever he did something that he thought should earn him at least a smile or a pat on the shoulder she simply huffed and talked about him 'finally earning his keep'. That hurt, too.

So he tried harder. James stopped acting like a prat to others, acted considerable towards the younger ones and never hexed anyone - well, no one who didn't hex first, that is. He even toned down his asking her out doing so only every other day instead of daily and sometimes twice a day.

Still, nothing ever seemed to be enough for Lily Evans. James was short of stopping forever.

It was that night, however, that he came upon Lily by chance as he checked the Astronomy Tower. It was the most frequented place by couples willing to march up those hundreds of steps as Prefects were often too lazy to check all the way up there. James usually was, too, but for once he didn't have the Marauder's Map with him so he had to check manually.

It was a pain. Until he saw her.

Now, James could tell anyone who wanted and anyone who didn't want to know just why he was in love with Lily Evans. Everything about her matched, was always his answer. There was something simply so _right_ about her.

Her fiery attitude matched her flaming hair; her heart was huge and she was as caring as a lioness towards her protégés and Lily considered anyone younger or in Gryffindor her protégé. She smelled heavenly like flowers which matched her name and she usually looked as composed and beautiful and delicate as one, too - at least whenever she wasn't yelling at him. She always lost the 'delicate' part about her, then.

That was something he loved about Lily, too. She was an incredibly strong-minded and -willed person. Nothing could shake her.

Or so he thought. For that evening, Lily Evans wasn't composed or even very strong.

She was sitting alone in a corner of the tower, her robes pulled tightly around her body to shield against the cold night air. Her hands were shaking and balled up with a piece of paper sticking out of one fist. Lily's face radiated sadness and grief and her hair was half piled up on her hair in a rat's nest and half down having already fallen out of her ponytail. She was a mess - but still as beautiful as ever to James.

With small, careful steps so as to not startle her James approached her shaking figure on the floor. "Lily?" he asked her, voice barely above the whisper of the wind. She heard him, though, as her head whipped around and up and like a deer caught in the headlights she simply stared at him, frozen up.

"What are you doing up here?" James' voice was a stark contrast, full and warm, in comparison to the harsh force of mother nature. "You'll catch a cold if you stay." James tried to coax her to get up and come down with him. She simply stayed on the floor, a fresh wave of tears threatening to fall from her closed eyelids that she had squeezed together tightly at his words.

James was finally standing right next to her and lowered himself down to a crouch so they were on the same height. Lily had turned away from him. James sighed. This looked to take slightly longer than he had anticipated on first sight. Begrudgingly he kissed his bed goodbye for another few moments.

Seeing the streaks on her face that the tears had left and her red nose a little snotty from the cold and the crying, he fished around in his pockets for a handkerchief he knew he had put away somewhere. Smiling victoriously, he found it in one of his back pockets, crunched together in a corner the same way Lily was situated.

"Here, Evans. Thought you might appreciate this." and he handed her the handkerchief. She silently stared at it first and then at him, never taking it. Distinctly unnerved he looked down to check if it was perhaps used though he could have sworn it wasn't.

It wasn't.

"Is there something wrong?" he finally asked her. Lily let out an incredulous huff. "Can't be serious." James figured this wasn't the moment for one of those serious-Sirius-pun jokes. It didn't matter as she continued, anyway. "You own a bloody satin handkerchief with your bloody family emblem and motto stitched onto it?" She let out a watery laugh and a small shake of her head indicated how ridiculous she thought that was. "Why do I even bother asking, of course you do." Her small smile showed him she wasn't mad. Relief flooded James and he gave her a sheepish grin and shrugged his shoulders as though to indicate it wasn't him designing his handkerchiefs.

In the end, Lily took it and started to dry her face and blow her nose. He thought about offering her to perform a charm to untangle her hair but thought better of it. Lily was the prodigious one between the two of them in that subject. If she cared, she would do it herself.

"Do you want to talk about it?" James asked her in a quiet voice. Lily bit her lip and he couldn't help thinking how very cute that particular habit made her look.

He loved most of her habits.

She didn't start talking which lost him some of his courage. Instead she gave him the balled up piece of parchment that still rested in her hand. He looked at it in interest but checked to make sure she really wanted him to see whatever was shown on it. Lily simply looked away, her focus on the sky and the stars once again.

James finally took it and started to unfold it. It turned out to be a newspaper article from the Daily Prophet. He had seen Lily receive her copy that morning as was usual. A few minutes later, however, she had run from the Great Hall, the newspaper left behind on the table save one article that had been ripped out. He hadn't checked which one it was as he didn't get the Daily Prophet. Lately, it only ever showed new attacks or fake news and new deaths. It was childish but James didn't feel like being confronted with the harsh reality of the outside world every day.

This particular quirk was supported as he read the article and was left feeling unbelievably sad and sympathetic for the small witch next to him whose temper was usually so fiery and now so very deflated.

"I always knew they'd die before me," she startled him out of his thoughts. "Even before I became a witch I knew that. It's the way things go. I'd simply thought we'd have more time together, you know? They weren't particularly old or fragile. They still had lots of years to go." A muffled sob left Lily's mouth. "It's so unfair. They still had so much time and they didn't even see me graduate or marry or have a child. It's so unfair."

Lily broke down, back to full out sobs. James didn't know what else to do but to take her in his arms and hold her. "Lily, I'm so sorry," he told her. This was beyond his expectations. How did one deal with a girl who had just lost her parents as bystanders to a war simply for them not being magical? "What can I do to make it better?" He was desperate. He didn't want his Lily-flower to cry and feel pain. All James ever wanted for her was happiness and love. To live a long and prosperous life. In the best case with him by her side. But this...this wasn't happiness. This was grief and loss.

This whole stupid war was grief and loss. As he squeezed her tightly James felt like crying himself. She was right; it was so very unfair.

They stayed like that for a while. The wind calmed down but the chill stayed. James knew he'd have to move her inside soon, lest she get hypothermia. With a heavy heart he caressed her cheek and took her chin, forcing Lily to look up to him. "We have to get inside. You'll be sick." Muted, she nodded her head; James felt relieved she wasn't completely unreasonable. And he was immensely glad she couldn't read his thoughts or she'd be incredibly mad for almost being called unreasonable.

They made their way down to the Heads' Common Room in silence, each lost to their thoughts. When they finally arrived inside and the moment came to part ways, Lily turned to him in a surprising move. She took his hands and gave him a small smile. "Thank you." Her voice was quiet but to James it was as if she was speaking through a speaker. "You were very...thoughtful tonight. Almost chivalrous, I dare say, with the handkerchief." She laughed a little before she sobered up. "I'm glad you were there. I don't feel as alone now. Even if you still are an insufferable toerag most of the time, tonight proved you're not always one."

Then she hugged him.

Lily Evans had never, ever, in their whole time in Hogwarts which was a considerable almost seven years, hugged him. Ever. It was amazing. He felt light and warm and complete. Even as she broke contact and disappeared in her room, leaving James to go to his own room, the warm tingling feeling remained and James' resolve strengthened.

No matter how long it took, he would fight for Lily and not give up until she was his.

For Lily Evans was worth it.


	9. After Popularity - Round 6

Task: Prompt 'Mean Girls' the movie

Round 6: After Popularity

Luna Lovegood has been Ginny Weasley's best friend since they were children. Of course, that might be because they were the only girls their age around where they lived. Still, Luna liked to think they would've been friends any way.

She knew she was not an easy friend. Strange things — even stranger than regular magical things — happened around Luna and she herself wasn't very...normal either. Ginny, however, was always there and never seemed to care. They were two small girls happy to have a friend in this world, one whom they could share everything with.

Like going to Hogwarts together.

The two girls had been so very excited the morning Luna — being the older one of the two — had received her letter. Not much longer and they'd both go there, too! Hogwarts, this magical place their parents and Ginny's brothers had told them so much about. Where the strange became normal and normal was just a strange concept that no one fully understood.

It was supposed to be their sanctuary where no parent or brother could ever stop them from anything and where the people were more understanding of their quirks than the small-minded people from St. Ottery Catchpole.

But then came the Sorting Hat.

Ginny tried to tell Luna that it didn't matter. Who cares if she was a Gryffindor while Luna was in Ravenclaw? They could still be best friends. No one could stop them from being friends.

Something did stop them, however.

They tried — especially Luna did with all her might. No one in Ravenclaw liked her. Her theories were not very scientific and professional; she had no proof which made her a bad researcher and unworthy of Ravenclaw in the other's eyes. She had plenty of time for Ginny.

Ginny, though, never seemed to have time for her. Whenever Luna approached her Ginny would be absorbed writing in some small book. She never let Luna look at it and after Luna got a little more forceful one time Ginny evaded her in the aftermath. In Gryffindor tower she was safe from her.

So that was their first year.

Ginny was absorbed by her book, lost all focus and Luna was left alone. Left to her housemates' mercy. They didn't have any.

What was supposed to be her sanctuary away from home turned to hell.

They took her clothes, destroyed her books and hid her things. Luna learned to go outside for peace, away from the castle and the mean girls and boys in there.

She discovered the Thestrals, one day. She knew to others they were scary and strange creatures. Luna loved them. They were like her. Misunderstood. They became her sanctuary.

After year one things changed a little, but not for long. She was still alone but Ginny seemed to bloom.

No one knew the things that had happened in her first year, only her family and Luna did. After Ginny had told her, trying to save their friendship.

Luna had been so happy. Her friend was back. Things would get better.

But then Ginny became popular and Luna was forgotten.

Since Ginny had been so absorbed by the journal the year before, no one had noticed what a nice girl she could be. Now they all did. She started to rise in ranks; the popular noticed her and she joined them.

Luna and Ginny at first made fun of them. Stupid girls, all about beauty and no brains. They could really do better. Still, Ginny continued to associate with them.

She changed. Over time, she started to act like the other mean girls, talked the same stupid talks as the mean girls and looked like the mean girls. And Luna was once again left alone with the mean girls.

Left to their mercy. They still didn't have any.

So their second year passed. Then their third year came. Ginny was swept up by the excitement that was the Triwizard Tournament. How cool was it that Hogwarts hosts it? _Did you see that cute boy from Durmstrang over there? Do you think he'd talk to me if I talked to him? Do you think he likes me in this shirt? Do you think he'll ask me to the Ball?_

On Christmas, Ginny went to the Yule Ball with Neville Longbottom — not the biggest catch possible but he was the scion to a Noble and Ancient House after all so not bad either — while Luna had a reprieve from the mean girls and boys for an evening. She spent Christmas alone in her bed, the room deserted for once as everyone else spent their time with friends in the common room.

The year progressed and Ginny went on dates with popular boys while Luna went to Hogsmeade alone — and only if she had no choice but to go because all her quills were broken and all her parchment sticky and tainted with strange substances.

Luna tried to tell Ginny what was happening to her. She tried to tell her what was happening to Ginny. Apparently, Ginny was still unable to see nargles for what they were.

And Ginny was overflowing from nargles. Everywhere she went she left a trail behind. Her new friends were all infested, as well.

No one ever noticed. No one but Luna.

She was desperate at that point. How could she help her friend? Luna knew that a nargle infestation could cause incredible damage like broken friendships if left untreated. Ginny wouldn't let her treat them, though.

She started to become defensive again. _Leave me alone with that stuff, Luna. Urgh, it smells, Luna. What the hell is wrong with you, Luna? Bloody...how could you? You ruined my shirt, Luna. Just go away. You know, I think they were right. You really are a loon, Loony Lovegood._

 _You really are a loon, Loony Lovegood._

 _Loony Lovegood._

 _Loony._

 _You're crazy._

 _Childish._

 _Stupid._

 _Naive._

 _Annoying._

 _Useless._

 _I hate you, Loony Lovegood._

The nargles had finally caused irreparable damage. Luna and Ginny's life-long friendship was broken and in Luna's eyes it would never recover from those blows. She knew that it was mostly the nargles' fault, but she also knew that nargles needed something to build upon. You couldn't raise hate and resentment out of love or nothingness. The person needed to have already had planted a seed of doubt.

That was the thing that hurt Luna. Not the things Ginny said but that little seed of doubt she must've always carried inside her. If Luna's best friend had doubted her, who wouldn't?

It left her feeling nothing but despair and sadness.

Come fourth year, Luna had lost all hope that school would ever be the place she had envisioned as a kid. And at first, it really only got worse.

Professor Umbridge was like a leech, sucking all happiness and laughter from the hallways. She was like a Dementor in that way. Luna could physically watch all the infestations from nargles and other creatures grow on her the further the school year progressed.

She had wondered whether she should offer her professor help. One try to do so had only resulted in her writing lines for 'spouting crazy stuff unbecoming of a young pureblood lady and disgracing all purebloods.' It had hurt a little.

Not because she cared about pureblood ladies and their behaviour, but rather because it was one more person driving home that something seemed inherently wrong with her. The blood quill drove that point in deep, quite literally.

When that fateful Hogsmeade weekend came and Luna officially became a part of Dumbledore's Army, something inside her changed.

She had been welcomed to be a part of something. That hadn't happened to her in all her life before. In a dark and dusty corner inside her, something very small started to move and shake a little, groaning from lack of use for years. Over the following weeks as each meeting passed it grew and started to shine, brightening up the dark and dusty corner it stayed in. By Christmas, that corner wasn't dark or dusty anymore and it wasn't small, either.

Luna was walking around with a smile on her face once more. Who cared if her late best friend still thought she was crazy and didn't talk to her apart from sneers rivaling Malfoy or that most of the school followed her example. She had made friends in Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom and a few Hufflepuffs.

Luna Lovegood had hope again. Hope that Hogwarts might just become that magical place it was supposed to be after all.

Then came the battle in the Department of Mysteries and, again, something changed; not in Luna but in Ginny this time.

Seeing her friends almost die fighting against Death Eaters — fully grown adults who should really know better, yet didn't — following the greatest of all evil and dark scum to walk the earth and seeing him herself hit a small, lately mostly unused corner of neurons in Ginny's brain. It was called common sense.

What was the point of beauty creams and spells? Would Death Eaters spare her for her flawless skin? Would Voldemort? No, most certainly not. Could she fight them by curling or straightening their hair or applying lipstick? She couldn't. Apart from angering them it would do nothing.

So she got into disagreements and fights with the other Gryffindor populars. They couldn't understand her change in attitude. So what if Voldemort was back. Would it really affect them in their princess ivory towers guarded by strong lion boys? In their minds, no.

That wasn't true, though, and Ginny knew that, now. With that knowledge she couldn't go on this way. It simply wasn't possible. So she broke off most of her contact with the populars.

It was a massive fight in their fifth year where people actually turned to their wands for help which later on gave half the House detention and a massive loss in points. Luna learned about it later from Neville who had been present. All the girls who used to be Ginny's friends had started hexing her. Seeing this, most of the boys in return had taken to protecting her. Harry included.

Now that was a developement Luna had seen coming for years. Ginny had always had a crush on the Boy-Who-Lived and it hadn't gotten better after having been saved by him. If anything, it solidified her belief. In Ginny's mind, he took place on a high pedestal she could never reach. So on her road to popularity she went out with others. It always came back to Harry, though.

Then in fifth year, she finally got to know Harry, not the Boy-Who-Lived. It did her image of him wonders in terms of reality. She started to like him. Harry.

Ginny was furious when Luna went to the Slug Club with him. She had no ground to be as she was there with a date herself, but after all that time not all the same rules applied to Ginny Weasley.

Luna was confronted one evening. It took most of an hour to explain that she really didn't feel that way for Harry. He was nice, but he was also her first friend after Ginny. She didn't want to put that in danger for silly schoolyard feelings.

In the end, Ginny told her to back off but believed her. It was a mild warning compared to what she had planned to do beforehand.

Luna stayed friends but made sure not to do anything that might betray her intentions. In all honesty, she knew there was no real reason to try to placate Ginny, but she also knew it would make things easier on herself if she avoided unnecessary arguments with other students. And an argument about a guy she considered a good friend truly was unnecessary in Luna's eyes.

Dumbledore's death came as a shock but apart from a mild feeling of sadness one felt when they knew someone had met their untimely death she wasn't as bothered as others like Harry were. To her, Dumbledore was just another member of faculty that had failed to do something about the bullying in Hogwarts.

Of course, it wasn't as straightforward as that. Luna also knew that Dumbledore had been a major obstacle between Voldemort and Harry, keeping Harry at least somewhat safe for the moment (somewhat for they had seen how successful Dumbledore had been during the last task of the Triwizard Tournament in keeping Harry safe). That protection was gone.

It was most obvious after the summer holidays when Harry, Hermione and Ron didn't return to Hogwarts. Hogwarts was its furthest from being the safe heaven it was supposed to be in all her time there, yet. Death Eaters roamed the corridors, masked as teachers or even as their Headmaster. Discipline changed from writing lines or serving detention with Filch cleaning trophies to torturing students or serving detention with Filch being tortured in the shackles the caretaker had told them about for years.

Filch hadn't lied. He had taken good care of them, keeping them well-oiled. It didn't lessen the agony one felt while wearing them.

A few fought back; mostly those who had been part of the DA. Purebloods like Luna, Neville, Ginny — now all considered blood-traitors — and muggleborns and half-bloods like Dean and Seamus. No one was spared the Carrows' judgement. No one didn't suffer. But they fought regardless.

Those who didn't suffer were the junior Death Eaters. They were the ones who got their training there at Hogwarts. Instructions on how to bring the most pain in an interrogation was given out in papers, before the students were encouraged to try the techniques out. It was a massacre.

When Luna was kidnapped with Dean, she honestly believed she would die. Why would they keep her alive, after all? She was a blood-traitor. The weird daughter of the owner of the Quibbler who printed anti-Death Eater propaganda.

Then she was freed and freedom suddenly had a completely different meaning in her eyes. Air felt sweeter, warmth felt like a loving embrace and laughter felt like a strange concept she hadn't understood in months.

The time Luna spent at Shell Cottage was good. Her recovery sped along nicely and she soon helped Fleur take care of the other guests. It gave Luna the idea that perhaps she'd like to become a Healer if given the chance. She loved journalism and knew her father wanted her to take over the Quibbler but this ... _this_ was something of her own. This was unchallenged domain to Luna. None of her friends wanted to be a Healer.

She'd be special, but in a good way. She'd be able to help people who had suffered as much as she had. She swore to herself that should she survive this war, she would give her all to achieve her dream.

When the final confrontation arrived, everything but survival or death had bled away. Loyalty gave way for self-preservation and belief turned to conviction one simply clutched onto — for giving it up would mean losing any resemblance of direction. They'd be lost. Easy as that.

Luna fought hard. She hurt and was hurt, saved people and saw people die in front of her eyes. Suddenly, it didn't matter who had bullied her before. They were all the same now. She helped whom she recognized and fought whom she didn't. It was chaotic and bloody and painful and an overload of information and sensation. It made her dizzy and when the end came, it was there and gone in the blink of an eye.

Suddenly, it was over. They had won and people grabbed the person standing next to them. Ginny happened to be the person standing next to her. Suddenly, everything that had happened between them in the years before didn't matter; they hugged as if their life depended on it.

It didn't anymore.

After one went through war, one's perspective on things changed greatly. Bullies realized that there was always a bigger bully, someone willing to be just that bit crueler than you. Victims realized that there were worse things that could've happened to them. It wasn't a clean slate.

But it was a beginning.

Popularity was a nice, but strange concept that existed in times of prosperity, where people are bored with their lives and feel as if they need to make an order; a reality where they needed a reason to be better than others. But no one was better or worse when it came down to survival. People were made of the same blood and flesh and bones as the next person.

So Ginny and Luna made things better. They weren't friends. That would take a while. But both had realized that in the light of things their arguments had been petty, especially Ginny had realized that. Luna was willing to give her a chance to make amends.

It might work, it might not. In that moment, that didn't matter. They had survived. Everything that came after would come after.


	10. Water Lilies Drown - Poem Competition

**Water likes drown**

She's a water lily

Made to float

Floats to be

Harsh times have been

Before her birth

Birthed from love to dreams

A legend to live up to

But she feels small

Small and beat

"A better world" they say  
But she feels pain  
Pain never goes away  
Pressure from above in form of rain  
Pushes her down  
Down she goes and drowns in tears

She's a water lily

Made to love

Loved for being small

Harsh times come

But she moves on

On she goes

Towards a destiny

Someone else's choice

Choice eludes her any path she takes

"A better world" they say  
But she feels pain  
Pain never goes away  
Pressure from above in form of rain  
Pushes her down  
Down she goes and drowns in tears

She's a water lily

Made to be brave

Brave she takes their hate

Harsh times she survived

Lives on hope

Hope for better days to come

A child's burden

Living in a world of greed

Greed takes everything she has

"A better world" they say  
But she feels pain  
Pain never goes away  
Pressure from above in form of rain  
Pushes her down  
Down she goes and drowns in tears


	11. Bigotry's Society - Round 7

**Task: Write about two wizards or witches having to live in the muggle world.**

 **Round 7: Bigotry's Society**

 _Tick, tick, tick._

Hermione let out a long-suffering sigh from where she sat in the armchair by the fire, her head resting in her left hand, elbow propped up on the chair's armrest. She had started out this staring contest with vigour and motivation, but, after a half-hour of silent glaring on his part and a straight defiant back on her part, she was left with a back ache and a serious case of annoyance.

 _Tick, tick, tick._

Of course, they simply had to install a bloody grandfather clock in the living room. As if the silence wasn't maddening enough!

 _Get a grip, Hermione. This is going nowhere! If he's not talking, then you'll have to._

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly while centering herself. With her determination back, she snapped her chocolate coloured eyes open and openly stared back into his icy grey ones.

"I chose to be here as much as you did." Hermione said, her voice strong.

No answer apart from an intensifying glare.

"Look, I'm as unhappy about this as you are."

This time he voiced his thoughts in form of a condescending scoff.

"I doubt it, Granger," his deep, velvety voice finally intoned. _His body had suffered during the war_ , she remarked, _but his voice is still the same_. _Perhaps the only thing to remain so_ , Hermione thought.

At least he had finally said something. That was progress, right?

"Why do you doubt that?" she asked him, a tinge of curiosity in her voice. He took his time replying, changing his posture from astute scion of an old family to the snobbish teenager he had been towards her during their time in Hogwarts.

"This is where you come from. Shouldn't you be absolutely chummy to be back here with your kind?" He was like stone saying that. Emotionless, hard, cold stone.

His words made her angry. How dare he! After everything she had done in the Wizarding World, _for_ the Wizarding World, how dare he insinuate she was still no part of it ━ part of his world.

"Listen here, Draco Malfoy, and listen well. You are here as part of your punishment. Punishment _your_ world decided was necessary for what you did during the War. You should be _glad_ you're not rotting in Azkaban together with your parents and you should be glad it's _me_ that's here.

I hadn't planned on being here! I don't want to be here. Still, I wasn't planning on being unfair to you, either. But if you don't stop acting like the _prattish Death Eater son_ you apparently are, you'll find I can be every bit as nasty as you."

Hermione got up from her chair. When she was half-way on the way towards the bedroom the Ministry had decorated for her in this Muggle house they had assigned her and Malfoy to, she said one last thing to him: "So what's it going to be? Can you pretend I'm not disgusting you with every breath I take, or will this mean a second war? Because I'm not sure you could take it."

After the war, the Ministry had decided that as bigotry towards Muggles and Muggle-borns had been the ultimate reason for Voldemort's successful rise in power, those bigots should learn to live in the Muggle world as part of their punishment. The goal was for them to see that Muggles weren't inferior to wizards.

Hermione, personally, thought that most of the Wizarding community were bigots. The Wizengamot, however, had decided that as Death Eaters were the true criminals they should be the ones being punished.

Because that's what living as a Muggle was: a punishment for wizards.

It amazed Hermione how even while trying to fight bigotry the wizards managed to be bigots.

It hadn't amazed her or the Wizarding community when the first Death Eaters had gone on a rampage, killing dozens of Muggles. It hadn't really surprised her, either.

You couldn't simply force people to change their opinion. Just because those people weren't deemed too dangerous to be in Azkaban didn't mean they weren't dangerous.

The Ministry learned from its mistakes.

They continued their so-called 'Re-Integration of Obvious Troublemakers into Society' program. RIOTS. Was it any wonder it was failing? Only this time they added 'security measures to make sure no being is harmed'. Which means: You killing those Muggles caused some truly awkward issues in our program to better our relation with the Muggle government; so to make sure this doesn't happen again, we'll place some trusted members of society ━ war heroes like Hermione Granger ━ with you whose job it will be to make sure you don't cause anymore trouble.

Like the bunch of snakes they are, the Ministry has managed once again to place the responsibility ━ and the blame should things go down the pan ━ on someone else's shoulders. So if Draco Malfoy decided that attacking a few muggles was a good idea, Hermione would be the one bearing the brunt of the negative backlash that would undoubtedly come.

This whole program was a farce.

Voldemort hadn't risen in power because a few pure-bloods had been too bigoted to see his bullshit for what it was. Sure, it had ultimately given him resources and helped along the way, but with only them backing him, he wouldn't have become the feared man he had been in the end.

No, the reason Voldemort had rather easily risen in power was because everyone had thought the same as the Death Eaters or been too complacent to do something. Someone else would take care of it.

But no one had.

Now, those same bigots who had let Voldemort take charge were turning up their noses at those who had been closest to him. Let them take the fall. We'll act as if this is an educational trip to show you the error to your ways, but in secret, we're as disgusted by Muggles and their strange, pitiful ways as you.

So there Hermione was. Stuck in the same place as her childhood tormentor for as long as it took for him to convince the Ministry officials that he had turned to a new page and could be re-accepted as a full member of that bigoted society.

Nothing would change and once again Hermione and her friends would be the ones having to put their life on halt for it. Sometimes she wondered why she stayed.

They never learned, they never listened to those who knew better, they never _would_ learn.

Theirs was a stagnant society in a fast changing world. They were already being left behind and Hermione had a feeling that someday there would be a time in which they'll be run over for it. Just like the Indians when the Spanish conquistadors came with their guns, the Wizarding world would face a bitter awakening when the Muggle world rediscovered them.

When that day came, even people like Hermione wouldn't be able to save them.

Which left her with Draco Malfoy.

Draco was a product of his environment. His father, a Death Eater, had spurred those same bigotries at him since he was a child. His mother, a society lady, had left her son to the care of his nannies as was demanded of ladies of her standing. His nannies had been hand-chosen by his father, selected for being bigots.

So the question wasn't 'Was it Draco's fault?', but rather 'Was there any hope he could change at nineteen?' Hermione didn't know. There were studies stating that most people had settled into their ways by the time their twenties came around. She never really liked studies. A study could be interpreted in a lot of ways, bigots loved them.

The next day, Hermione sat in the same armchair as the day before when Draco entered the room for breakfast. He stopped in his tracks once he realized he wasn't alone. They stared at each other for a few minutes, silence so thick you could almost see it.

Finally, he nodded at her, a glint of respect in his eyes and said in his velvety voice: "Good morning, Granger."

 _Yes_ , Hermione thought smugly, _I've never really liked studies._


	12. Is Snape possessed? - Round 9

**Task: Write about someone seeing someone else in a new light.**

Round 9 ━ Is Snape possessed?

It was five o'clock in the morning on a normal ━ well, as normal as Hogwarts could be ━ Monday morning when James Potter was doing his routinely daily jog around the Black Lake. Quidditch was not just about flying and even though most wizards would never acknowledge that and stoop so low as to do something as mundane and, dare one say it, muggle as jogging to stay fit; James knew better.

He had started this regime at the beginning of the summer holidays after fifth year to be at his best in hope for the Gryffindor House captaincy that he got in his sixth year. Since then his flying had improved dramatically in technique and speed. So, no, James didn't think he was judgemental ━ as long as it furthered his cause.

He was halfway through his second lap when he saw something in the distance that would prove his judgement to be tested, for, as he neared the Quidditch pitch, he could barely make out how someone was flying around on a broom, obviously playing around with a Quaffle.

Now, that fact alone would not have been as astonishing as it was, even if it really was unusual for James to meet someone else who was up before six by choice and outside, especially.

What really stunned him into stopping his movements abruptly and, thus, causing him to almost fall over and flat on his face, was the sight that met him as he could finally make out the person flying.

It was a Slytherin. Not any Slytherin, though; not even someone who played on the Slytherin House team.

No, it was Severus 'Snivellus' Snape, flying around on an old school broom as if he owned the air, doing tricks and moves that should not be possible, or at least were not safe to do on a broom such as the one he was currently using.

James simply stood there, silently gaping up at the sky. Had the world finally gone mad? Had _he_ finally gone mad? Was Snape possessed by some higher entity, perhaps even some kind of Quidditch god acknowledging that no one could hate Quidditch as much as Severus Snape usually seemed to do. Not even Lily did.

Entranced, James spent the following twenty minutes just watching the young Slytherin move in the air, going through drills while looking as if he did them every day. It couldn't be, however. James ran every day at the exact same time and he had never seen Snape out here before.

Perhaps it was the stress making him come out. N.E.W.T.s were, after all, just a few short months away, as Lily liked to drill into his head whenever possible. Had Snape simply cracked?

For whatever reason, he couldn't explain it himself, James started to watch him almost daily. He continued his runs by the lake at the same ungodly hour and more often than not, Snape would be there, just flying in the air on the Quidditch pitch, throwing Quaffle after Quaffle through the hoops.

The longer he watched, the more it felt to James as if Snape was somehow...human?

At first, he had reasoned that he should feel disgusted. Such a vile person should not be sullying his beloved Quidditch with their pitiful attempts at plays.

His attempts were not pitiful, though. They were really good and it made James wonder: Just why had Snape pretended all this time? He obviously liked Quidditch a lot if he made the effort to get up around five each morning just to play it without anyone seeing him doing so.

Seeing Snape fly, changed the light in which James saw him. In the castle, he was just another Slytherin, one whom he and the other Marauders especially loved to prank. He was just another bully who liked to torment the younger students. He deserved James' hate.

Did he, though?

James wasn't judgemental. He didn't believe in blood purity and thought most of Lily's thoughts on creature laws made a lot of sense. It was just the Slytherins; they made it so damn hard not to hate them!

He was so sure his opinions were all rightful and deserved. He simply hadn't met a decent Slytherin, yet; that wasn't his fault, right? Severus Snape was a bad person and probably a Death Eater, even if he was most definitely a lousy one. So what, if he flew and so well, too.

Every person had something that made them at least a little bit normal. Even Pandora made sense from time to time and she was married to Lovegood! So this whole debacle shouldn't change James' perspective.

Yet, it did. From that fateful day on, he couldn't really justify his hate to himself anymore. Sirius had looked at him as if he had lost his bloody mind when he had mentioned that perhaps they should lay off pranking. He was Head Boy, after all, and they did have N.E.W.T.s in a few months.

Hell, even Lily had asked him if he felt unwell. Sweet, innocent Lily had wondered why her boyfriend wanted to stop pranking Slytherins.

That had really felt like a slap in his face.

So, over the next few months, James made sure he acted normal. He resumed planning pranks, made fun of Slytherins and Snape in particular, just covertly. He was Head Boy, he couldn't be too suspicious; he had duties.

The days of school came to a close and examinations arrived and left. James still took his jogs around the lake and he still watched Snape fly. He asked himself sometimes if he should talk to him. He knew Snape would hate that, however, so he never did.

When the last day and their graduation ceremony arrived, James was glad he wouldn't need to watch Snape fly again. They were going into completely different directions. James would join the Order of the Phoenix and Snape would fully become a Death Eater. They would be enemies for real, not simply school nemeses.

The ceremony was beautiful. However, James couldn't really focus on it. Sure, the Marauder's last prank at school had gone perfectly; they had even managed to get a scolding from Minnie. Yet, as James looked around, he couldn't help notice just how many parents and family were missing for this important life achievement. Many were people lost in the war raging on; some just had parents who couldn't care less what happened to their child.

One example of the second kind were Sirius' parents. James had seen his younger brother, Regulus, lurking around the edges of the ceremony, and had felt some warmth at the thought that at least someone still cared.

Another example were the Snapes. James knew about any parent or family member lost to the war or disease or accidents in his year, because it was his duty as Head Boy to know when a student needed help. The invisibility cloak did help, too.

He knew Snape hadn't lost anyone, so far. They simply hadn't cared enough to show up for his graduation.

James felt pity for Severus Snape. He was a miserable, evil, snivelling, bullying, sneaky bastard, and a ton of other things. But he was a son, too, and no matter what one did, no one should be abandoned by their parents.

James knew he couldn't tell Snape he was sorry. He would probably think James was making fun of him, not mean it sincerely. He could acknowledge him, however.

So, right after the ceremony was over and most people had moved on to the Great Hall for the graduation feast, James made his move. He walked right past Snape, never once looked him in the eye or gave any indication he was talking to him and said: 'Add a twirl to your shimmy at the end. It throws the keeper off.'

The Woollongong Shimmy: A zigzagging move meant to throw opposing chasers off. James would never know how seriously Snape took this advice. He would never know that because of this simple advice Snape would always remember to get one last unexpected element in that kept on throwing off his opponents. Nor would he find out that telling him this, he would give Snape the chance to stay alive long enough for him to help save James' future son Harry's life until he wasn't needed anymore.

James Potter would never know that with his last dying breath, his old school nemesis would remember him and think: _I guess I didn't throw this one off, in the end._


	13. From Hero To Dark Lord - ArticleComp

From Hero To Dark Lord ━━ Is that Harry Potter?

The Boy-Who-Lived, also known as Harry Potter, has had his ups and downs concerning his appearance in the wizarding media. Now, whether the previous articles covered the situation correctly remains to be seen, but it appears to this reporter as if Mr Potter constantly continues to give us normal people reason to doubt him.

We all know the story about the fateful night on Halloween of 1981 and how baby Harry saved the Wizarding World from evil forces for the first time. One has to keep in mind and wonder, though, how could an innocent baby possibly kill the most dangerous wizard Wizarding Britain has seen in the last few hundred years? Some experts would argue that only a darker wizard could kill another dark wizard. What does that say about our saviour? Dumbledore certainly didn't kill Grindelwald in his time.

The next shady instance happened in young Mr Potter's second year at our very own Hogwarts. During the first and last meeting of a dueling club sponsored by none other than bestselling author Gilderoy Lockhart, Harry Potter displayed some frightening knowledge of the Parseltongue.

Some of you, my dear readers, might not know this, but Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth. This ability of being able to talk to snakes seems to be a hereditary one as only a very small of the Wizarding population has it. Of this small part of the population, only known dark wizards have been known to have it. One of the last of them was none other than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, last heir to House Slytherin. Or was he?

The last aspect I'd like to inform you of, is the rebirth of mentioned Dark Lord. In Harry Potter's fourth year at Hogwarts the Triwizard Tournament took place where Mr Potter himself was entered as a fourth champion. At the time, young Harry denied any role in this surprising development and was proven right at the end of the year when Barty Crouch Jr., ex-Head of the DMLE Barty Crouch Sr.'s son, was apprehended and confessed that he was the one to enter Mr Potter.

Now, what this reporter encounters as very fishy, indeed, is the fact that for about half an hour during the last task, Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory had been unaccounted for. When they reappeared, Mr Potter held the Triwizard Cup in one hand and Mr Diggory's dead body in the other. Mr Potter cried out in a heartbreaking display how You-Know-Who was back and he was effectively seen back among the living a year later.

What proves to us, though, that the Dark Lord's rebirth did not happen at some later point and that Harry Potter helped him willingly?

To some of you this must seem like an attempt to drag our Head Auror's name through the dirt, but I felt it was important to inform you of certain sightings. In the last few months, Mr Potter has reportedly been seen in some pretty shady places, such as the Hogs Head and Knockturn Alley, where he was thought to be heard conversing with known Ex-Death Eaters and Snatchers who had acted under the Dark Lord's command the last time.

Am I paranoid? I think the last War may have left us all that way. Do I think it prudent to inform you of these developments? Of course, if they may prove right! We do not know for sure but for your own safety, dear readers, stay away from certain places, especially at night. This reporter would rather we all take a few precautions too much than see the rise of a new dark lord ━ who knows how powerful this one might become!


	14. We Belong Together - Round 10

**Task: prompt Mariah Carey's song 'Belong With Me'**

 **AU: non-magical**

 **Round 10: We Belong Together**

Severus sat there at his desk, staring at the paper of his journal, trying to come up with words to describe his pain. There was nothing.

Nothing could possibly show just what he had lost and how it left him feeling empty.

 _June 6, 1975_

 _What the hell have I done?_

This was it. She was never going to take him back now.

 _She was the only good thing in my life. And I ruined it._

His left hand was shaking, balled into a fist. How could he have ever uttered those words? Thinking back on it, Severus couldn't even _think them!_

 _I was just so angry. I still am. Damn that Potter brat!_

Should he call her?

Severus picked up his mobile. Her number was the first on speed dial. No one was more important. Not his lying, pathetic mother and especially not his whoring son of a bitch father.

He pressed the button and it went off. _Beep, beep, beep. The number you are calling is currently preoccupied. Please leave a message after the tone. Beep._

"Lily, it's me, Severus. I just...God, Lily, I'm so sorry. You can't believe how sorry I am. It's just that damn Potter─" No, she wouldn't want him bad-mouthing him. Her and her bleeding heart, feeling sorry for that arrogant, attention seeking good-for-nothing. Just because he had lost his parents. So what? Severus' parents hadn't been around for years!

"Look, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that I lied...and I'm sorry for that. You _know_ I didn't mean it when I said I didn't love you. I never mean it. I just thought..." He ran his hand through his long black hair, frustration bleeding from his tone. "You knew it was going to be tough and that I'd have to be convincing."

The radio was playing. It was incredibly annoying. It was as if the whole bloody universe was conspiring against him and even the radio dj mirrored his thoughts.

" _If you think you're lonely now..."_

 _Well, that, dear Bobby, is not helping at all!_

Frustrated, Severus turned the dial to change the song. His momentary lapse of silence on the voicemail was starting to become more noticeable, but he couldn't concentrate on getting the right words out with this music playing.

" _I only think of you."_

Couldn't he catch a break tonight?

Returning his full attention to the phone in his right hand, he let out a harsh breath.

"Lily, if I mean anything to you, please give me a chance to make it right. I know I shouldn't have called you that...word and I shouldn't have lied about my feelings in front of the group. I'm just so _close_ to having the evidence needed to put the whole thing down and them into prison. When that's all over, I'll be happy to shout out to the whole world how much I love you. You're a part of me ━ the best, actually ━ so if you left...I'd lose myself."

Severus was struggling to keep it together and not burst into tears. It wasn't manly and Lily needed him to be strong. He couldn't be weak, not now. The public needed him! If he couldn't get Riddle, lots of them would die! Severus couldn't let that bloody terrorist continue his rampage.

"I need you, Lily. Who else am I gonna lean on when times get rough?

Who's gonna talk to me on the phone till the sun comes up? I just...no one could ever take your place, Lily." A low, deep chuckle left his throat.

"You may notice I feel slightly out of my element, here." A grimace was etched tightly into his face. With a sigh he uttered his last words before cutting off the message. It was already too long, anyway.

"You need to make a choice now, so I'll leave you to it. Please, call me whenever you're ready to talk. Just know that I'll always love you. Bye."

So this was it.

 _I should have worked harder, faster; then we wouldn't be in this bloody mess and Lily would be here, lying next to me. Damn Pettigrew for suddenly switching sides. Couldn't make up his bloody mind and boom everything blew up in pieces, I'm the bad guy and Potter swoops in to save the day._

Another heavy sigh left Severus' mouth. He couldn't always blame James Potter for his misery. It was stupid, foolish and very childish. He was a grown man, for fuck's sake!

 _It doesn't really matter, I guess. If she so chooses, Potter gets the glory and the girl and I'm all alone working on an impossible task. I should've refused Dumbledore, back then. Who in their right mind would agree to take down terrorist mastermind Tom Riddle? Most feared man Great Britain's and evil supreme._

Severus Snape had. The fool, obviously not in his right mind and blinded by his love to Lily, attempting the impossible while trying to impress his love and show her his worth, that he wasn't beyond saving, no matter what the police and his criminal record said.

 _I guess that's another sleepless night for me._

 _End of entry._

Putting down his signature mark ━ an old family emblem with candle wax and a sigil, completely at odds with the modern times he lived in ━ Severus waited a minute for the hot wax to cool down before closing his journal.

He never put down a name. If any of his enemies came across this little book it would most definitely be fatal for himself and a lot of other people, Lily included. The only name was at the front: _The half-blood Prince._ An old joke between friends and only Lily truly understood the name's meaning. It would stay that way.

Lily and him, forever. They had promised as kids, as teenagers and as adults when he asked her to marry him. Never had he been able to fathom he could ever be left without her love.

Now it was a very scary, but possible reality. He just hoped that their love was strong enough to survive this fall out.


	15. Silent Night - Round 11

Round 10: Silent Night

It was one of those nights where the weather seemed influenced by the way people felt. Rain was pouring from the sky, down the windows like the tears that had long stopped flowing down her cheeks. Thunder was screaming and sobbing the way she had when she had realized that all hope was lost. Lightning was missing.

Strange, she thought, how the only bright thing in a storm was missing on a stormy night such as this one.

Narcissa Malfoy's blank gaze drifted over the wall next to the window. It was covered in the few pictures she had been able to take before all had gone to hell.

There was one showing a happy family. Smiling, bright faces with gleaming white teeth ━ or pink gums ━ and shining blue-grey eyes framed by blonde locks. Everything was immaculate, nothing else would be appropriate for a family of their standing, yet, there was a warm undercurrent that even formal pictures taken by a professional could not take away.

They had been happy.

Now the young Madame Malfoy's died curls lay limply down her back, tied back in a ponytail that was holding it together as well as she was. Dark circles belied the youth her body held and the tight lines surrounding her mouth belied the vitality magic should have given her body.

She was exhausted.

There was simply nothing left inside her that was willing to fight. Oh, how long and well she had fought. For her husband's sake, the family's, the family line's...for her darling baby daughter.

Lyra Narcissa Malfoy's laugh had been as enchanting as her name was. Perfection. This little girl had hung the moon in her parents' eyes and nothing could ever change that.

Even in sickness, with all its pale glory and haunting silence broken by wrecking coughs, Lyra's face still held a softness that her hardened father had envied her, still held the innocence her mother had envied her. It still held the love her parents had given her.

Narcissa still remembered the fateful day when she had learned of her pregnancy. Lucius and her had not married for love and until that moment she had not been sure it would ever be a loving marriage but on that day she had caught a glimpse of the man he could be, a man she could gladly fall in love with.

She remembered how she had felt sick for days and been worried about catching one of the many ailments her family was known for. Narcissa was not stupid. She knew the Black family was inbred and that there was a high possibility she would end up dying by some genetic disease. There was additionally a high chance that she would never have children.

The healers told her if she had children there was an even higher chance of them being born sick.

So she had gone to St. Mungo's and her healer had checked her all over, finding absolutely nothing wrong with her. In fact, she was rather healthy and bursting with vitality. So he asked about her period and she realized just why exactly she had been feeling sick.

Lucius had been freaked out, of course. When she had told him the news he had simply blinked, then blanched to an even whiter skin tone. Actually, Narcissa had not even though that possible.

"Pregnant? As in…" he had stumbled over his words before trailing off. Narcissa had only grinned widely, something she very rarely did.

"As in we're going to have a beautiful baby daughter in a few months."

"Daughter?" Lucius had wheezed out before abruptly sitting down. Concerned, Narcissa had hunched down in front of him. Was he unhappy about the sex of their first child? Was he unhappy about their child, period?

"Lucius, are you alright?" she had asked him cautiously, a slight tremble in her voice before she schooled her features blank, a look she had perfected over the years. Nothing was needed as much in a Slytherin as their pokerface.

"Am I alright? Am I alright? Merlin, Narcissa, I'm screwed. A boy I can deal with but what the hell do I do with a girl?" he had half-screamed at her. Narcissa had felt her eyes go frigid. No one would take her baby, not even her husband.

"She's going to want to date someday. What do I do then?" Lucius was completely lost to his own panic-fueled rant that he did not even notice his wife go completely still. Her face changed from cold animosity over blank confusion to blinding happiness. He was shaken out of his thoughts when peals of laughter burst out of her mouth followed by her body launching itself into his unsuspecting arms.

So after a moment they laughed together about the silliness of their reactions which turned to loving smiles and the first really happy kiss in their marriage.

Over the next months, a lot of those glorious moments followed. Lucius came to each and every healer's appointment no matter how small and insignificant it was or how important anything scheduled for that time was. The baby and his wife came first.

The first dent in their happy bubble had appeared at their five months appointment. The heartbeat was not as strong as it should be. Now, Mr and Mrs Malfoy, officially we can't annul this pregnancy anymore, you're too far along but━

"Annul it? Why the bloody hell would I want to do that?" Narcissa had yelled at the healer. Sputtering, the man tried and failed to recover.

"Well, I just though as it's a girl and this way she probably won't survive the pregnancy, much less the first year━"

"So you thought because she's a girl she's less worth and I would simply hope for better luck next time?" Narcissa had been furious and so had her husband been.

Lucius Malfoy had promptly asked for another healer and for this one to be relieved of their care. Malfoys always got what they wanted.

So the last months of the pregnancy had been pure torture. The two ongoing parents had been unable to truly appreciate the wonders of choosing the baby's clothes and toys and furniture. It should have been a time of happy change and hope, yet, it was tainted by the first healer's prediction.

Their happy bubble got its second dent when Narcissa went into labour early and gave birth to a beautiful but scarily quiet baby girl. Something had gone wrong and their little Lyra was going through a reanimation ━ or was it simply animation as she had yet to really live?

She survived.

After five long hours of animation, breathing and heart monitoring and reanimation when her heart stopped for a few seconds just two hours after everyone had thought her stable, the healers finally declared her out of the woods. For now.

The happy parents took her home a day later. The healers had wanted to make sure the baby was truly going to survive outside the hospital and had kept her for observation.

When they finally got home, the first thing Lucius did was install a baby monitor that would check his little princess's vitals at all times and go off immediately if they ever reached a certain critical level.

A good thing that was, too, as it went off for the first time just one week after the family had left the hospital.

So back to blank walls and cold rooms, back to clinical voices and pitying glances from nurses and healers alike. Everyone knew the truth: Lyra Narcissa Malfoy was not going to make it.

At first, Narcissa and Lucius fought this. They had gone through such hardships already, their poor, darling and perfect little girl could not simply die.

Narcissa cried a lot, Lucius drank a lot. They barely left the house and if they did, they always took Lyra and did something fun with her. Something as a family that they could remember her by. Just in case.

When Lyra turned seven months, she started to crawl. She was a happy and curious kid and now she could explore on her own. She regularly almost gave her parents heart attacks.

She gave them herself, too.

Her heart was not made for strenuous activities and crawling excessively was definitely consider worthy of being strenuous for a small baby with a weak heart.

So the next bout at the hospital came. This time they kept her for a whole week before Narcissa and Lucius could take her back home. The healers warned them that it might be any day now and that perhaps they should start preparing. Just in case.

Narcissa was still in denial. Lucius wasn't. It grated on their marriage, gnawing it raw through vicious fights that ended in more crying and drinking. Narcissa still held onto some small shred of hope. Lucius had started to arrange things.

The seasons changed and summer turned to autumn. Lyra caught a cough. That in itself was not anything serious, any healthy baby could have easily dealt with it. Yet, the more her birthday approached, the worse it got until one day her body simply shut down. It was one week until they had proven everyone wrong. One week until their daughter had lived to see her own first birthday.

The healers told the parents that they had two options: Keep her chained to monitors and machines at the hospital or give her a few nice last days at home.

It was a nightmare come true.

They took her home.

So there Narcissa was, watching her daughter sleep peacefully in her bed, waiting for her little heart to stop this torture. Her tears were dried, her eyes dulled and her husband lay somewhere in a drunken stupor that she wasn't going to pull him out of.

Thirty-two minutes after midnight on Lyra Narcissa Malfoy's birthday her heart gave out. An hour and forty-one minutes after midnight she was declared dead. Two days, fifteen hours and thirty minutes after midnight her body was lain down for rest. Three years passed before her parents started to move past her death. Five years passed before her little brother Draco Lucius Malfoy was born ━ healthy.


	16. Meeting the In-Laws - Round 12

Round 12: Meeting the In-Laws

Perfect.

Everything was bloody perfect.

From the cream-coloured walls of the tent set off by streaks of light green, to the slightly glittery, golden floor. The food for later on, after the ceremony, was ready; Molly Weasley had been working all morning on it with vigour. After all, it wasn't every day her youngest and only daughter got married.

Not to anyone, either. No, Ginny Weasley was marrying her childhood sweetheart Harry Potter. For years she had been waiting for this moment but something had always delayed it. First they had been too young, they had still gone to school. Then Harry had started Auror training and Ginny had started Holyhead Harpies training and there had simply been no time.

Finally, they day had arrived, so why was Ginny feeling uncertainty?

Not about Harry or their love. No, there was no doubt about that. Rather, she felt inadequate. For Merlin's sake, she hadn't even met her future in-laws. What if they didn't like her?

Of course, that was a question of no consequence and one that would normally never be answered for Lily and James Potter had been dead for almost twenty-five years now.

Only it was a question that could be answered.

Ginny was not sure why exactly Harry had gone back into the woods all those years ago and searched and searched for hours for the stone he had let go only days before; hours, really. He had found it, though.

Ginny knew exactly where it was. On the second floor of their new home, in his office, third bottom drawer in his desk, in the hole he had left in Tom Riddle's diary after fighting the basilisk in his second year to save Ginny herself.

That was where she was now.

Oh, it was wrong. She should be taking care of her hair and makeup now because in two hours she would be walking down that aisle to marry her prince. It was so easy, though.

Just three small turns in her hand and there she was.

Lily Evans Potter.

She was strangely translucent, grey. Not quite like a ghost but not nearly solid. And Merlin, but was she smiling. Ginny now knew just where her Harry had his incredibly kind smile from.

"Hello Ginny," her smile broadened. "I have to say it is marvelous to finally meet you."

Ginny was simply staring at her. This moment should never have come, yet here it was. She was meeting Harry's family, his mother.

"I'm so sorry," she finally got out. Lily frowned in reply.

"Now why would you say that? There's nothing to apologize for." Ginny burst out in tears.

"Yes, yes there is. I'm nowhere near good enough for him. I've got issues, I'm insecure, he needs someone way more gentle and understanding and I have a temper problem, I burst so fast he doesn't deserve my anger ninety percent of the time. I'll make a horrible wife and I'm not sure I can be a mother and I'm scared of the future and, Merlin, I'm pregnant."

Ginny's voice had slowly but surely gone up a few notches which had turned to full out wailing. She simply stood in front of her mother-in-law, shaking like a leaf in the wind.

"Shh, now calm down, sweetheart," Lily ordered her. She continued saying sweet nothings until Ginny had sat down in her fiancé's desk chair and dried her tears on a tissue. Lily Potter had a very soothing voice.

"Ginny, you seem like a practical woman. Tell me, are these insecurities and issues you talked about rational, has Harry voiced them himself? Because if you ask me, my son can be very dense and I'm sure he hasn't noticed any of them." Ginny was staring wide eyed up into her lover's eyes, his mother's eyes.

"I'm going to tell you about my wedding day. Everything was perfectly decorated. Dorea, James' mother had been working all morning with the House Elves to make sure it was that way. James was getting ready somewhere and do you know what I was doing? Bawling my eyes out, thinking I don't deserve him because I had rejected him so many times before saying yes, that he deserved a girl who had appreciated him from the beginning.

After fifteen minutes of drowning in self-pity and -loathing, Dorea found me and talked to me. She told me almost the exact same thing I'm telling you now.

In my experience with weddings, every woman has their small breakdown of being unsure they deserve that kind of happiness. At least, in our recent generations. With the wars of 1940, 1970 and 1990 our lives have been dotted with pain and wrong decisions. The point, however, is that all of that is over and has been for quite a few years now, in your case.

My son loves you, Ginevra Weasley, and James and I couldn't have imagined a more perfect bride for him than you. You are strong, independant and I know you will make a great mother for this little bugger."

Ginny had finally stopped sobbing completely a few minutes ago to listen aptly to Lily's words. She had trouble finding any at all herself in reaction to them.

"I...thank you," she finally breathed out. Lily smiled at her, her beautiful, kind smile.

"There's nothing to thank for. Now go out there and marry my son so you can officially become part of this family, my daughter." Ginny gave her a small grin.

"I will." She out the stone away and turned to leave the room, knowing Lily would leave on her own in a few seconds when a shout stopped her. Looking back she noticed a tear leaking from Harry's mother's eyes.

"Tell him we love him and that we're unbelievably proud of him, will you?" Ginny simply gave her a small nod and she was gone.

One hour and a half later, Ginny Weasley walked down the red aisle towards her husband with his bright green eyes and kind smile and there was no place else in this world she'd rather be.


	17. Once Upon A Time - Round 13

**Task: King**

Round 13: Once Upon A Time

Once Upon A Time, in a land far, far away, there lived a beautiful princess of the name Pansy.

Every morning she woke with a bright smile upon her face and every morning she saw her maiden standing beside her bed, waking her for a new day. Every morning the first words to leave her words would be, "What a beautiful day it is, Hermione, don't you think?" and a laugh like the sound of a tinker bell would follow it.

Every lunch Pansy sat with her parents who loved her very much, who loved her so much that her father spent all day working so he would have so much money that Pansy could have everything she wanted. Every lunch she sat opposite her mother who loved her so much she gave Pansy's care to her nanny when she had used to be younger because her mother knew she did not know enough about children to care for a child and did not want to do a thing wrong.

Every afternoon she would take a walk in their perfectly groomed garden, tend to by their gardener Neville who always waved at her as she passed by, with pretty and colourful flowers and lush trees heavy with ripe fruits drawing interesting shadows upon the immaculate, almost plush grass Pansy walked on.

Every evening Pansy would laugh and sing and enjoy herself at her father's dinner parties where everyone liked her. Every time she would behave as a true lady, a true princess should to show the world how perfect an upbringing she had been fortunate to.

Every night she would leave for bed in one of her luxurious ball gowns hoping that the next day she would finally meet her perfect prince charming.

He would be strong and tall, have hair in the colour of bronze or, even better, gold. He would be at least as smart as her and she knew, if it was the right one she would just feel a spark! It would be perfect.

Every day was always the same ━ until Pansy's sixteenth birthday. That fateful day was supposed to be the most perfect day in her life. This was the day her father had promised her she would finally meet her future prince and if her father had said so, then it would be so.

So she took extra care to get ready. Hermione scrubbed every part of her part extra long to make sure she was even cleaner than usually; the water was scented with fragmented oil so Pansy would smell heavenly; her hair was put into an elaborate up-do with crystals and coloured beads woven into it, leaving it shiny and sparkling; her pouty lips were coloured red to draw every male's attention to it if they were not already drawn to her carefully darkened eyes.

Pansy had never looked better.

So she had breakfast and lunch and went on her daily afternoon walk in the gardens, excited for that evening's ball in her honour. She walked past the same beautiful flowers and lush trees and on the same plush grass as usual, but one tiny detail had changed. Neville was not at his routinely place, tending to the roses by the exit towards the wilderness.

Curious, Pansy made her way in the direction of the open gate. Perhaps Neville was taking longer than usually for the back part, where it is darker. It was getting darker sooner, after all, as winter was slowly approaching.

She walked past the last tree line and noticed that the guards who usually stood by the gate were missing. Something was wrong, she could tell. She just could not put her finger on it. Pansy had just been about to turn around a go back to the castle to tell their Master Knight, Harry, that his knights were not doing their job properly, which was unacceptable, when suddenly all light faded from her vision. Pansy was picked up and as if drunk swayed from side to side ━ someone had put her in a bag! Kicking and screaming she tried to fight her way out of the bag but it was no use.

After some time, she had lost track of it an eternity ago ━ was it even still her birthday? ━ she was abruptly put down on hard stone. Thinking that perhaps now she had the chance at an escape Pansy clawed at the bag surrounding her until finally she could breathe sweet, fresh air again.

Blinking for a moment before her sight adjusted Pansy's head simply stuck out of the top of the bag. Her hair looked a mess as did her face. Her dress, as was revealed once she stood up, was rumpled in most and torn in all other places.

For the first time in her life, Pansy did not look like a true princess ━ and she did not care for she was stuck in some ugly tower made of grey, plain stone in a room high above the ground. There were no doors or other kinds of exits apart from that one platform the size of a huge boulder that just opened up to the outside. Anyone stupid enough to try to leave that way would fall to their certain death.

There was not much in the room. Just a bed which was not nearly as luxurious as hers even though it looked as if someone had tried. There was also a small desk with writing and painting utenils and a small drawer with clothes that looked as though they would fit her and a brush for her hair. A few feet away she could see another small table with kitchen tools and food and drinks in a pantry.

Someone had been planning for her arrival. Pansy had been kidnapped!

No need to panic, she told herself. People would have noticed she was gone. Surely her father had long ago sent off a search party to come to her rescue. She simply had to wait for them.

So she waited. She waited all day until the sunlight had retreated for the moonlight to come out. She waited all night until it came back. She waited and waited and waited, yet no one ever came.

On the third day Pansy had given up hope ever to be found again. She would survive but she would forever be alone. Was that the kind of life she wanted to live? Perhaps it would be better if she simply jumped out of the tower. At least she would have a few seconds of freedom before she died.

At the exact moment she had drawn up all the courage her small body possessed and prepared to jump, a big creature came out of nowhere and scared her away from the edge. No, Pansy corrected herself, it did not come out of nowhere, it came from the air! In front of her was a live, breathing and fire throwing dragon.

It was majestic in its fierceness. White-silver scales lined a heavily muscled yet oddly elegant body framed by shimmering wings. It was a thing of beauty!

And it could kill her in a moment's notice.

So she screamed and backed away from it until her back hit the wall and there was no room to escape left.

The dragon had not moved an inch, it had simply watched her the whole time. After a few seconds, it lay down and did not move again until Pansy moved. Then it was as if it was watching her.

Every time she moved, its ears would move with her body, always alert. Whenever she tried to get around its body to reach the edge, because death by plummeting to the ground had to be better than being roasted and eaten alive, its tail got in the way and stopped her.

So she tried to ignore its presence as it did not seem to do anything.

As time passed, days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and months turned into years, and then Pansy's eighteenth birthday had arrived. Over time she had started to trust the dragon. It never threatened her or hurt her in any way. If anything it protected her from herself. During the day she would talk to it and the few hours it left she would sleep to pass the time. By the time she woke up it would be there, watching over her with food or clothes or other things waiting by its side for her.

It was not perfect, but it was her life now and she had come to like it. It was oddly enjoyable to not have her maiden watch her or to always have to be a true lady. She did not really miss her parents either as it was not much of a difference ━ apart from the meals she had barely seen them.

The dragon had become her first ever real friend.

So on her birthday she did not take hours to get ready and she did not wear an elaborate up-do or makeup or a beautiful ball gown. Instead she made a cake herself and spent the day singing to her dragon, something it seemed to adore.

That night, Pansy went to sleep with a smile on her face.

The next time she awoke, dawn had not arrived, yet, she woke to a bright light. It did not come from the outside, however, but from inside her tower.

Silver light flooded the whole room. Pansy was transfixed. It was scary, yet, undeniably beautiful, too. It was the exact same colour as her dragon's scales in the moonlight. Her dragon who was missing, she realized as the light started to fade. In its stead, there was a young man who could not have been much older than Pansy herself.

He was tall and strong, his hair was the colour of white silver and looked incredibly soft. His skin was milky white and in the moonlight he looked so ethereal and beautiful, it took Pansy's breath away.

His seemed to be gone, too, as he simply stood there, wide-eyed and watched her warily. There was something familiar about his stare. Something she had seen every day for two years now.

"Are you...my dragon?", she finally whispered unbelieving. The man simply nodded his head in response. "How come you've only...changed now?"

"Because I couldn't before." His voice was soft, yet powerful, silky, yet it was sharp like steel. It made her feel safe.

"Why not," she asked. The man slowly approached her, yet she was not scared at all. Perhaps it was because she had known him for years.

"My name is Prince Draco of the Malfoy kingdom across the mountains. On the day of your birth, we were promised to each other by our parents. I was to meet you on your sixteenth birthday, but an evil fairy godmother called Voldemort put a curse on me so i would turn into a dragon and thus be unable to be with you. Yet, I would have died had I not been with you. So was the curse. On your eighteenth birthday, I was to be changed back but only if you remained pure and alive," Draco explained.

"But why would he curse you?" Pansy could not be upset with being kidnapped to save him when knowing the fate her promised prince had been supposed to meet.

"Because he wanted you for himself. You were supposed to be taken to him when you turned sixteen. He wanted to use you until nothing was left to take back and then he wanted to kill you. Even as a dragon I had to protect you from that." Draco had slowly crossed the room and now stood in front of her. He took her hands in his; they were as warm as her dragon, she noticed. "I love you, Pansy. I know I could never talk but I have come to love the person you are. As soon as you had lost your fear of me you have been kind to me. You are beautiful and I want you to be mine.

Princess Pansy of Parkinson Kingdom, would you do me the honour of marrying me and joining me as Queen of Malfoy Kingdom by my side as the King? Will you be there when we defeat the evil fairy godmother Voldemort and live forever in peace and have three children and name them Narcissa, Acacia and Leo?"

"Oh Draco, of course I will marry you. I love you." Pansy sighed. She could hear giggling. Did her Draco giggle? She would have to tell him that it was not very manly. It did not matter. What mattered was getting a kiss from her fiancé and leave that tower.

Just as she was about to touch his lips with hers something heavy collided with her face and she woke with a start. Her dorm mates were howling with laughter. A pillow was next to her head, presumably the the heavy something that had hit her. Enlightenment hit her and Pansy's face turned an unattractive shade of pink.

"Oh Draco, my strong dragon," one of her dorm mates started in a dramatic voice.

"Oh Draco, I love you," continued another one. Pansy picked up the pillow and threw it in their direction only to be hit by laughter.

"Oh, shut up," she huffed out in annoyance. "No more muggle fairytales before sleep for me," she mumbled and got up to get ready to face another day at Hogwarts.


End file.
